The Dark Horizon
by Valora
Summary: "You know you can't run. And you know you can't hide. You are mine. You will be for the rest of eternity."
1. If Only

**AN: Okay, this is a short side project that just came to my mind. I wondered what would happen if, in the real world, where the Transformers exist as a cartoon, comics and movies, someone, who originally doesn't have anything to do with them, gets drawn into the plot and discovers that the real Autobots and Decepticons are not like this person thought they were. This story is written from this person's point of view. And yes, I was really thinking about studying art in my physics class when I thought of this story. Rated m for violence and smut.**

**Transformers belongs to Hasbro/ Takara.**

**The Dark Horizon**

**Chapter1: If only...**

If only I had known what I was getting myself into. If only I hadn't been so naïve. If only I hadn't listened to him, to this deep baritone that had been telling me to trust him. If only I hadn't gotten into the car.

Now I was sitting here on a cold metal table, alien fingers probing and examining a body that wasn't mine. A cage. That was what I was living in. A big, cold cage, with only one single exit: death. I closed my optics and sobbed. The fingers stopped.

"What's the matter, kid?" the voice of my friend, my only friend, inquired. I shook my head, looking down.

"It's nothing." That wasn't true. It was everything. I knew it. He knew it, but said nothing. He squeezed my shoulder lightly, resuming his work. I thought back. Back to a time when I had admired those warriors of metal, had looked up to them, had believed them. Those times were gone. Forever.

It all started on a cold and windy December morning; I was sitting in school, letting my physics teacher blabber away while letting my mind wander, looking out of the window. Just two more years. Two more years and I'd be outta here. No more physics, no more math, no more anything I didn't need. Only me and my gift. This was my drug. And even if studying art meant I had to pass the hardest entrance examination in the world, I knew that if I couldn't do it, no one could. My world was bigger than this. I knew that if I would lead a normal life, working in an office maybe, I would suffocate. And so, when I heard the sound of jets, of roaring engines and missiles hitting the building, it was a mix of horror and hope that I felt. My friend Malissa, who was sitting beside me grabbed my arm anxiously, being someone to be scared off easily. The other girls from my class started screaming, their high pitched voices making my eardrums ache. Suddenly a huge pair of metallic feet crunched down in front of the classroom's windows and only seconds later the window side of the room was being torn off by the biggest pair of silver hands that I had ever seen. In a daze I realized that the other pupils had already stood up and were storming out of the room, retreating further into the building, I started to follow them hastily when _he_ called my name.

"_Joelle Dahl?"_ I turned around, shocked. This wasn't possible. I had heard about him. Seen him in comics, cartoons, movies. But this was real. I couldn't believe it. There he was, Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots, kneeling in front of _my_ school, calling _my_ name. Not even in my wildest dreams had I imagined that this creature, this _god _would ever come into my life.

"Y...yes?" He blinked the covers over his blue optics, eyeballing me with these alien visual sensors. Malissa, who had already fled the room now returned, grabbing me by the arm once again, trying to pull me out of there. I wouldn't let her. My feet were firmly planted onto the linoleum on the floor, my body not moving a single inch, no matter how hard she tried.

"Come on, Joelle! We gotta get out of here!" She screamed at me. I didn't listen. All of my attention belonged to the giant red, blue and silver robot in front of me.

"Joelle Dahl, you're in great danger. I don't have time to explain now. Please come with me." he said, that beautiful deep voice lulling me into some kind of trance. The next words were the ones that I should never have listened to.

"Trust me." He extended his hand. I looked past his massive thigh, where other, somehow familiar robots were fighting, demolishing the whole parking lot and the surrounding buildings. I smelt smoke. The school was burning. Machine guns were rattling, glass was being shattered, cars were being crunched down to become metal heaps, shredded beyond recognition. He promised safety. In a weird way. 'I'd probably be safer if I kept away from him', I thought, 'but that was what I wanted, wasn't it? An exiting, special life? And what would be a greater chance for such a life than him?' His hand was still outstretched to me. He was waiting. Waiting for me. After taking a deep breath, I approached the hand, to the shock of my friend.

"JOELLE!!"Malissa screamed. I climbed onto his flat palm, clinging to his thick fingers. I turned around one last time. While Optimus was standing up, I caught a last glimpse of my friend, who was trying to reach out for me, tears in her eyes, shouting for me to come back. Once he had reached his full height, I could see the complete extend of the battle for the first time. Four huge mechs, two of them winged, were trying to approach the large bot who was holding me in his hand safely, but a whole bunch of bots (I counted at least nine of them) were keeping them at a save distance. A sturdy black mech, who I recognized as Ironhide, big, but not as big as Optimus, ran towards us, panting.

"Do you have her?" he asked his leader, gazing into his hand curiously and scanning the 'puny fleshling'.

"Yes. Hold them back a little longer, then retreat." The other robot nodded.

"No problem."

xxxxxxxxxx

The soft leather seats were warm, somewhat snuggling into the curves of my body, holding me in place securely and comfortably while Optimus' motor was purring like a kitten, pushing his huge, transformed body forward untiringly. He had told me where we were going: their base. We had been driving for over an hour now, the other Transformers who I had seen fighting at my school were following closely. I looked to my left, where a holographic, tall man with a short brown beard was sitting in the drivers' seat, pretending to steer the vehicle. I cleared my throat. I wanted some answers and I wanted them now.

"So it's true. You guys are real. How come you haven't kept your existence a secret?"

"Sideways."

"Sideways?"

"Yes. An Autobot deserter. He had been hiding on earth for quite a while and to be able to interact with the human governments secretly, therefore being able to supply himself with pretty much anything he needed or wanted, he sold a story to them. And although this story was true, it was just so incredible, so fascinating, that the human governments knew that, even if they told this story to their people, they wouldn't believe it. That's how these comics, the cartoons, the toys and finally the movies about us came to existence. The humans made a fortune with these stories. Of course, now Sideways is no more."

"And everything from the stories is reality? The civil war and all that?" The hologram looked straight into my eyes, nodding.

"Pretty much everything, yes. Cybertron, the war, a lot of the Cybertronians involved, Autobots and Decepticons, good versus evil. There are some things that the humans don't know about us, and some things that they just dreamed up about us, but still." I shook my head. This was crazy.

"But what do I have to do with this? I mean, I'm just an ordinary human, I can't be of any importance to you, can I?"

"Tell me, miss _Dahl_, did you ever break a bone? Did you ever lay in bed with some kind of illness? Did it ever occur that you were not 100% healthy?" I looked at my lap, thinking.

"Now that you mention it, no." The hologram nodded.

"And what do you think, why could that be?" I shrugged.

"Good immune system?" He chuckled and shook his head, his brown strands moving almost naturally.

"No. Let me tell you another story. In the year 2006 a meteorite crashed down close to your hometown. Two days later a 13 year old girl was killed in a car accident. Only a few hours after that unfortunate incident, deep in the night, a car stopped in front of her parents' house and a woman stepped out. She talked to the parents and made them an offer. The next day, the girl was back home, alive and happy. The only ones who ever remembered the accident were the parents and the woman. This woman, who had brought back the beloved daughter, was one of us. The girl she brought back that day was _her_ child. The child which she wanted to hide from the world to keep it save. The child that would decide over our species' fate one day. Joelle, you're the child." Now I could see what he was getting at. It was just hard to believe. The fact that I was not my parents' daughter made me cringe. They had lied to me, they all had. My stomach felt like it would wander up into my throat, cutting off my breath. My whole life, all my memories, were a lie?

"This can't be. I remember a time before I was 13 and I remember being human. You must have kidnapped the wrong girl." Again, he shook his head.

"It's all a matter of programming. Believe me, you're the right kid." I still wasn't sure if I wanted to believe this.

"So everything I remember... actually didn't happen?"

"It did happen, just not to you." He looked out of the windshield and up into the sky anxiously. I knew what he was most likely looking for.

"Okay. Let's say I'm this uhm... _child_ you're looking for. And you want me to help you. How?" He sighed.

"You see, the war has been raging for quite a while and truth be told, our race is going extinct. I haven't seen or heard about a functional femme in centuries. You're our last hope." I blushed. That was what he was after.

"You want me to help you save your species. In other words, you want me to have children."

"Yes." Yes. Just yes. Forgotten were the adventures, forgotten were glory and excitement.

"So what? Are you going to seduce me now? Get the job done right now with your super sexy hologram, Mr Optimus?" Said hologram tightened its grip on the steering wheel, shifting uncomfortably in its seat.

"That would be useless. You're not even fertile yet." I laughed sarcastically.

"Excuse me? I'm 16 years old, I got my period for the first time at the age of 14 and you're telling me I'm not fertile?" He rolled his bright blue eyes.

"What a detailed fake."

"FAKE?!"

"YES, FAKE!" He let go of the steering wheel, left his seat and shoved his face into mine. He was so close I could see every one of the little blue accents that seemed to explode over his iris, emanating from the pupil, that seemed to narrow, seizing me up. He poked my breast, I slapped his hand away. "Listen. This skin, the hair, the muscle, the human organs, it's all a fake. A perfect disguise, no human would ever suspect you of being something else. This was exactly your mother's intention. And somehow she managed to stop your growth, otherwise you would be way too big by now to pass as a human. So you're still in your sparkling body, but your CPU has developed normally. And if you don't stop being so damn recalcitrant I'm feeling tempted to just tie you up and leave you in my sleeper!" I felt his hot breath on my skin, felt his hands being braced on the seat on either side of my hips. Intimidated, I leaned back as far as possible, away from this relatively big artificial human male. He even _smelled_ like a human. It was a somewhat musky, but decent scent. Under other circumstances I would even have considered him attractive. I held up my hands in a defeated manner.

"I'll be a good girl. Just... stop _grinding_ against me like that." He retreated back to his seat.

"When we arrive I'll have Ratchet examine you. I think we'll have to remove all that... flesh to allow your body to reach its full size." The next minutes passed in silence. So decisions were made about my life and I didn't have a say in it? Great, just great.

"You know, you're a pretty detailed fake yourself. Your hologram, I mean." He looked at me, smiling again.

"Thank you." I sat back, pleased with myself.

"Are we there yet?"

**xxxxxxxxxx**

As expected, the base was really big. Of course, since those guys were simply huge, they needed a shelter that equaled their size. It was located in a desert, a sealed military area. Area 51 maybe? Couldn't be sure. Nervously, I looked over to the hologram again. I wondered if, in case I had to stay here for a longer time, I would be allowed to visit my family and my friends. After all, even if I had left them in a rush without really thinking about it, I still cared about them.

"Uh...how long...do I have to stay here? I mean, before I can go home and visit my family?" He didn't respond while pulling up into a huge hangar. "Optimus...?"

The hologram disappeared, the door on my side of his cab opened. Slowly, I stepped out. When I had left the vehicle, Optimus transformed. I watched him, stunned. I'd probably never get tired of seeing them do that. This shifting of body parts, creation of new connections, the bombastic mettalic sounds that came with it. When he was finished I took in my surroundings. Thirteen Autobots, of which I could identify most, were standing around me, along with countless human soldiers. They were all staring at me. The greenish mech to my left stepped forward and lifted me up by the back of my jacket, ignoring my shouts of protest. Ratchet, the chief medical officer. He eyed me up and down, obviously running scans as I struggled. He would most likely not intend to harm me, but still the position I was in was highly uncomfortable. Finally he lay me down on his palm and stroked my back with his other hand like I was some sort of pet you could just pick up to play with. I didn't want to be treated like an animal. I kicked his finger. He shook his head.

"A fascinating creation", he said, "probably one of the most advanced disguises I've come across. And you even managed to bring her here undamaged. I'm impressed."

Optimus nodded. "Retrieving her was relatively uncomplicated. I'm leaving her in your care. She is to be examined and treated so she can be of use to us. I trust you to find a way to get her development restarted."

"I'm confident I'll figure it out, sir.", he responded.

"You may leave and start your work."

" Yes, sir."

Ratchet started making his way out of the hangar, securely holding me in place between his hands. The other mechs were still staring at me, not daring to say a word. It was strange, having all those familiar yet unknown aliens watch me so intently. After we had left, I could hear them talking quietly in the distance.

**So that's the first chapter for now. Please review.**


	2. Fear

**Whoa, didn't think I'd finish this one so fast. Anyway, here you go!**

**Transformers belongs to Hasbro/ Takara.**

**The Dark Horizon**

**Chapter2: Fear**

The metal table I was sat on was cold, unlike the warm robotic hand that had been cradling me previously. The room was by far smaller than the hangar, about thirteen floors underground, but still huge for my standards with a door at one end and big shelves stuffed with all kinds of metal parts at the other, equipped with all kinds of alien tools and devices. Some small enough I was sure I could handle them, some so huge I would even have trouble _climbing_ on top of them. Some I could identify, things like wrenches, screwdrivers and welding equipment, but others I had no idea what they were supposed to do. Ratchet had pulled a chair up to the slab I was sitting on, something that looked like a huge pair of scissors in his hand. I backed away from him nervously.

"You're... you're not gonna cut me apart with those, are you?" I asked shakily.

He frowned, looking at me then at the scissors. "Why should I? It's not my intention to damage you." Still, those sharp blades somewhat scared me. "Anyway", he continued, "I need to remove that cloth to get a proper look at you."

I looked down at myself. Was he planning on doing what I thought he was? "You want to strip me. I know you're the... doctor here, but... that's kinda awkward. I'd like to keep my clothes on."

He looked at me, confused. He probably didn't quite understand why I obviously did not want him to see me naked, considering that Autobots were strangers to the concept of wearing clothes. "You can talk as much as you like, but that won't change the fact that I have to examine you thoroughly, Miss Dahl. So please remove your clothing or I'll have to do that myself. Your decision."

I cringed. 'Aaaw, fuck it', I thought, 'he's a doctor, he's most likely not thinking anything inappropriate. He's just doing his job. Maybe he'll realize they got the wrong person and leave me alone.' Removing my jacked and starting to open the buttons of my blouse, I spoke. "It's kinda cold in here. Could you please turn up the heater or something?" He reached under the table, most likely pushing some buttons hidden underneath, and it started to warm up immediately. When I was standing in front of him in my underwear, I stopped. He motioned for me to continue. "Go on. All of it." I wrapped my arms around myself. "Is this really necessary?" "Yes." Right to the spot. No talking around it. These guys had some way of talking I wasn't used to.

Hesitantly I removed my white bra and panties, covering my private areas with my hands as soon as they were gone. Ratchet scanned me again, now without interference from my clothes. He then retrieved a tool from another table and turned it on. It hummed, the small blades at its head moving at a frantic pace. "Keep still..." Before I could even realize what that thing was he had already grabbed a strand of my long hair between two fingers and was happily cutting it off. I gasped, shocked, and scrambled away, causing him to accidentally rip out some of my hair. It hurt like hell but I didn't care at the moment.

"What the fuck! You ruined my hair!" I yelled at him, running to the corner of the table where my clothes were stapled. All curiosity gone, I quickly slipped into my jeans, not caring about underwear, just wanting to get redressed and out of there. "That's it, I'm out of here. Stay away from me, you psycho!"

He just sat there, confused. "Hair is unhygienic. I need you to be clean."

In a hurry I put my blouse back on. "I must have been crazy. I should never have come here. You're nuts. Stay away from me!" I said again as I fastened my belt. Before I was fully redressed he grabbed me, bringing me up to eye-level although I was struggling.

"Resistance is futile. I have my orders."

"Well, fuck those orders! Put me down!" I screeched. He shook his head.

"The Prime's words are law. No exceptions." I growled. "Put. Me. Down." "No."

"AAARGH!!!" I started pounding his metal fingers with my fists until my knuckles bled. He seemed unimpressed. Tears started to flow down my cheeks. Why was I crying? Anger? Protest? Fear? Maybe a mix of all three?

"Put me down! Weren't you taught to respect others?? You're an Autobot, dammit!!" He seemed to cringe at the mention of his faction.

"Stop that." He murmured. "You're hurting yourself." Again, I brought my fist down hard on his thumb.

"This is _my_ body! I can do whatever I want with it!" He made a strange noise, blowing air out between his 'teeth'.

"Do you have any idea how much trouble we went through just to find out where you were? Do you know how many years we had to search for every tiny bit of information just to find you? We need you. You're one of us, so stop bitching." I sagged a little in his grasp, exhausted from my struggling.

"You say that as if it was my fault. You want me to feel guilty but that's not gonna work, you hear me??" He rubbed his forehead with his free hand, sighing.

"You know what? I don't care if you're feeling guilty or not. I just want you to cooperate so I can do my job. I'd sedate you if I could, but I don't know how your systems will react to it. So I can't."

I opened my mouth to talk back at him but he interrupted me before I could say anything. "And don't even _think_ of crying for help, because no one is gonna listen. Is that understood?"

Finally, I raised my hands, defeated, seeing that this would lead me nowhere. "And what", I inquired with an unsteady voice, "are you gonna do in case I _don't_ cooperate?"

His optics darkened. "If you don't cooperate, which I don't recommend, I'll have to restrain you and go through with the examination anyway. But that would hurt you and that's not something I'm looking forward to. If I put you down now, will you be a good girl?"

I sighed. "Yes. I'll be good." He kept his word and sat me down on the table again. And once again, I was forced to undress. I have to admit I was scared to death when I was instructed to sit down and keep still, but I didn't show it. The crying before had already been more than enough humiliation for today. I hugged my legs to my chest. Yes, my dignity had actually always been important for me. Just like my hair. My long, silky hair I had always been proud of. Not in my wildest dreams I would have thought of cutting it. And now Ratchet's tool was happily humming over my head, removing every shiny, glorious strand of pride I had.

I started to get a real bad feeling about all of this. I kept quiet, the only sign of my distress being the salty water pouring down from my eyes and over my emotionless face. He removed every hair on my body that was longer than three millimeters, then sprayed me with some heady stinking liquid that made me cough, probably disinfectant. Then he started the examination.

He mainly felt my body with his huge digits, bent all of my joints, moved my spine carefully, scanned me over and over and over again. To his credit I had to admit he was very gentle and didn't hurt me.

When he was finished the big metal doors opposite of the windows opened and the imposing commander, Optimus Prime, stepped in (I was sure Ratchet had called him via some internal communicator), causing me to blush and immediately try and cover my nakedness. He didn't greet me, not even really paying me any attention.

They started talking in their native tongue. Of course I didn't understand a single word. After all, their language was so different from all languages of earth. Clicks, rattling, purring, clanging and cooing noises, mechanical sounds spoken in a pace my ears couldn't quite take in.

Suddenly the room darkened and beams of light emanated from Ratchet's optics, forming a hologram showing my insides as they chattered on. Ratchet, although he was most likely pointing something out with the help of the hologram, seemed to be very submissive in the conversation though, subtly wincing every time Optimus spoke. The hologram was a fascinating sight but yet it was highly disturbing. It was the final blow to my identity, every belief that they had made a mistake completely destroyed. Someone who didn't know anything about human anatomy would probably not have noticed anything special about it, but I did. It seemed to depict some kind of x-ray image so the skeleton was clearly visible.

Never before had I seen such an image of my body (since it had never been necessary to make one), but while its outer, transparent "shell" resembled my body as I knew it, I could clearly see that the hologram did not only have an absolutely non-human skull, but the breastbone was covering the whole chest and the limbs' "bones" were way too numerous and thick. The hipbone had a total abnormal form and above it, where a human skeleton consisted only of a spine, there was a slim, but completely molded waist and stomach. Another thing was that _if_ this was an x-ray image, the pure whiteness of the skeleton could only mean one thing: metal. So I was a machine in a human body. That was too much. My vision turned black and I hit the table I had been standing on hard.

**xxxxxxxxxx**

I felt around me, not daring to open my eyes yet. Maybe it had just been a dream. I know, everyone would have hoped that in my situation, but for a split second I really had some hope to wake up in my bed at home and realize it had all just been a nightmare spawned by my internet-and-TV-spoiled mind. For a split second I believed, that if I opened my eyes now, I would see the orange ceiling of my room and the messy heaps of clothes on the floor.

But reality hit me hard when I did open my eyes. I was _not_ in my room, _not_ in my parents' house in the little town I grew up in, _not_ anywhere I wanted to be. I was still in that room. That room where the Autobots' chief medical officer had revealed that my whole existence had indeed been a lie.

At least I wasn't on that metal table anymore. Actually, I was in a box. A square glass box, just big enough so I could lie comfortably. Its bottom was covered with soft white cloth and large pillows while a big infrared-lamp was swinging from the top. I stared at it. What did they think I was? A piglet? Sitting up, I noticed I had been clad in something you could call a bathrobe. It was also white. On full alert now, I looked around. Ratchet wasn't there, nor was any other Autobot or human. I stood up, just to cringe back down in an instant. I pulled the bathrobe from my stomach to expose a huge black effusion with a dry bloody stain in the middle of it, right above my right hip. It hurt terribly. The flesh around it didn't look good. It was greenish black and the skin covering it seemed to rot. I clutched the fabric to my body, trying to make the pain go away. It subsided just enough to allow me to stand up and see if I could somehow open the box. No such luck. I could see how it had been closed, yes, but I couldn't reach the lever from the inside. I hit the glass with my flat palm, but that didn't earn me anything but a dull sound and an aching hand.

"You're awake." I spun around, seeing Ratchet carrying a small lattice box filled with various metal devices into the room. "You got me worried. I didn't think your human shell would take such dramatic influence on you stabilizing systems. This could turn out to be more difficult than I had thought." He took a seat in front of me and leaned forward. "How do you feel?"

I glared up at him, my moss green eyes darkening to mere black spots. "How do you _think _I feel?" I hissed, pressing my hand onto the black spot over my hip to lessen the reawakening pain. The fabric over the wound was already getting soaked with blood and sanies.

"Oh that. Yes, I thought the injection would harm the organic matter. But at least it rose your protoform's energy level. That should restart your growth in about a week.

My stomach grumbled loudly, demanding to be filled. "Speaking of energy levels. I'm thirsty. And I'm dying of hunger. You see, I haven't had anything since before you guys kidnapped me, so..."

He shook his head. I wondered how often he could manage to do that in a single day. "Oh no, no, no. No human food for you, missy. I don't need that... grime in you for your surgery."

I raised my hand to my head to brush through my hair, just to be reminded that it was gone. Tears stung my eyes, but I bit them back. "No food? You want me to starve? And- wait, what was that about surgery?"

He had pulled his chair over to his workbench, sorting out the metal pieces from the box he had brought in earlier, neatly stacking them in front of himself. "Come on, use that little processor of yours. How do you think I'm supposed to get all that skin and the organic muscles off you?"

I fell silent, sitting down between the pillows. I remembered Prime mentioning something about "removing flesh" when we came here, but I had thought it had been a joke. Forget about the whole robot-inside-me-story, that was my body he was talking about and obviously he was planning on ripping the flesh off my bones. He was going to kill me, I was sure of that. And he was talking about it like it was the most natural thing in the world. I had to get away from there, and fast. But how? If I could somehow reach the surface, I would still be in the middle of a desert, 30 miles from the next settlement minimum, soldiers looming everywhere. A plan started to form in my head. But I'd have to wait until evening.

Clearing my dry throat I knocked against the glass wall in front of me. "Uh, Ratchet?"

"Hm?" He didn't even look up from his work.

"What... uh... what time is it?"

Again, without looking up, he answered. "It's 4:52 pm, on December the 18th. Why?" "Curiosity." He shrugged, lifting two weirdly shaped small metal parts and getting a close look at them.

4:52 pm. So I had been here for about one day. Had I been out cold for so long? I estimated it would take until about 6:00 pm until it was completely dark outside. That were 68 minutes, or in other terms 4080 seconds. I started counting.

Ratchet was sitting there the whole time, completely focused on his work. Now and then he would reach into his toolbox and make a little noise altering some part's form, but most of the time the only sounds that could be heard was the soft clicking of him putting the parts together. I wondered what exactly he was doing, but I didn't dare to ask so I wouldn't loose my count.

3795 seconds. I started to get nervous.

3950 seconds. What if my plan didn't work and I didn't even get out of the box?

4080 seconds. "I need to go to the bathroom." I squeaked, pressing my legs together uncomfortably.

"Forget it.", he all but grumbled.

"If you don't let me, I'm gonna wet myself. I thought you wanted me to be clean." I said, turning his own words against him. He turned around to look at me with a disgusted expression on his face, then sighed somewhat annoyed. "I'll call someone to escort you." I stood up, stepping from one foot to the other. "Please hurry."

Of course I did _not_ need to go to the bathroom, but it was the only way I could think of right now how I could get out of the box. Only about four minutes later the door opened and a rather short yellow robot stepped in. 'That must be Bumblebee', I thought, watching as Ratchet stood up to take off my prison's cover and reaching inside to pick me up. I tried my best to stay calm when he handed me over to his fellow Autobot and told him something in Cybertronian. Bumblebee clutched me to his chest so I couldn't get away and carried me out. While he was carrying me I tried to take in and remember my surroundings the best I could, since I thought it might come in handy in case my plan didn't work. The hallways all looked the same, so it was extremely hard to find any characteristic attributes about them that would help me to remember. After turning right once and left twice we entered the elevator, which brought us three floors higher. We left into the hallways again, turned right once. In this hallway I noticed something promising. An installation duct- opened for repairs. It would certainly be a tight fit but I was sure I'd be able to manage. ca. 35 meters onward Bumblebee stopped, leaned down to open a human-sized door. He then put me down.

"There. What are you waiting for? Go in already!" I did as I was told and closed the door behind me. Frantically, I started looking around, finally letting my panic surface, now that I was alone. There were a few ventilation shafts over the eleven toilet booths, but they were way too small to fit through. Besides, they were closed tightly. So what I had seen before really was the only way so far. After sending a quick prayer to the heavens I pressed the flush and used the tab to wash my hands to make my stay in the bathroom sound authentic. I looked up in the mirror and halted. A stranger looked back at me. Pale skin, dark rings around the eyes and a bare skull. I looked terrible. I opened the bathrobe to inspect my injury. It had become bigger, the black coloring of the skin had spread. It was now too big for my whole hand to cover. I winced. One day and I had changed like that.

A sharp knock on the door ripped me out of my thoughts. "Are you finished yet?" Bumblebee inquired, his voice much rougher and harsher than those of his many bubbly, friendly incarnations in the media.

"I...yes." I took a few deep breaths to prepare for what was to come now. I had to be fast. My heart started pounding 180 times a minute minimum when I opened the door.

The yellow Autobot was standing in front of me, arms crossed, tapping his foot impatiently. When he approached me, time began to blur. All I could hear was my heart beating in my chest as he bowed down to grab me. My feet seemed to be glued to the floor, I wanted to run so desperately. Eventually I could rip them loose and run for it. It didn't take the Autobot long to come running after me, but still my surprising move had earned me a head start. The 35 meters to the installation duct seemed to pass excruciatingly slow as I ran as fast as I could. I didn't notice my dress flying open or the blood seeping from my side. I didn't notice the robot behind me closing in with his long strides. My whole attention belonged to the hole in the wall. I jumped- and reached the shaft right before the metal fingers could grasp me, hitting my shoulder in the process but managing to scramble down the vertical shaft quickly. Alarms sounded. Behind me, I could hear Bumblebee cursing both in English and Cybertronian.

**xxxxxxxxxx**

I knew I had to go upward. Ahead of me, further into the ground, was a dead end. But I couldn't turn around in the tight tunnel, where I sometimes even had trouble squeezing through, and I couldn't climb upwards upside down. So, holding my weight with my arms only, I climbed and slithered down. After just a few minutes I reached a vertical grid cover big enough for me to fit through. I arched my back against it to get it opened. After a few energetic hits it gave in and I tumbled out. Quickly I got up. I was in a small and grubby room, pipes and fuse boxes everywhere. In one corner there was a small wardrobe. I opened it and found a blue coverall. I lifted it for inspection, seeing that a bathrobe probably wasn't the best dress to wear for an escape. It was way too big for me, it smelled repulsively and it was dirty, but it would do. I changed quickly, noticing how the effusion on my side had become bigger and more painful again. The alarms were still sounding. I was sure both human and Autobot forces where already searching for me. It made my stomach knot uncomfortably.

With extreme caution I opened the door, noticing with relief that the hallway was empty. I jogged along, a crower I had found in the previous room in my hand. If I'd go down, I'd go down fighting, I decided. I was outnumbered, outgunned and outskilled hopelessly, but still my instinct to survive urged me on. I heard voices down the corridor. They were closing in on me. There was nothing to hide, so I ran into the other direction. When I turned around a corner, I was confronted by a small group of human soldiers, armed with rifles. Everything went so fast after that. I heard them shouting at me, but I didn't listen, didn't even realize _what_ they were trying to tell me. Turning around another corner, I took off running again, but this time I was being followed. Believe it or not, in my mortal fear I was able to run faster than the uniformed men, but not faster than their bullets.

I saw blood spraying in front of me. The air was pressed out of my lungs. _After_ that, I heard the shots. I fell, clashing face first into the floor, my speed making a hard crash out of it, everything was getting black for a moment. Then I screamed. Pools of blood were forming on my left shoulder and thigh, running down my body as I writhed on the floor in agony. Next I knew the humans were carrying me somewhere, but I had long lost the orientation in the monotonous tunnels. The world around me was blurry. Something familiar, in a (for me) bad way, entered my vision. Ratchet. I fainted.

**xxxxxxxxxx**

I opened my eyes slowly. I still couldn't see properly, couldn't move. My whole body was aching. Cold sweat pouring down my body. Like from afar, I could hear those clicking noises again, but faster than before, hasty. I was staring up into a terribly bright light when a shadow fell over me. A huge shadow, edgy, humanoid with antennas emanating from the head. Optimus. I could only see his silhouette when he spoke. His voice sounded muffled to me, but I could understand what he was saying.

"Finally. You're awake." He sounded angry. Very, very angry. "What the pit were you thinking?? If you pull another stunt like that, I'll-"

"Stop it, Prime." another voice interrupted. It was Ratchet. "The dirty rags she was wearing entered the shot wounds and caused a blood poisoning. She's most likely delirious and doesn't understand you." I wondered why he was speaking English and not Cybertronian, but either way I was glad no one was yelling into my aching ears anymore.

Optimus growled, obviously still staring at me. "Fine. Anyway, I want the surgery done ASAP. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir. The preparations shall only take a few cycles longer."

"Very good. Let me know when you're finished." The shadow disappeared, leaving me staring into the light again. So at this very moment Ratchet was preparing the surgery, in other terms, my early death. Burst were the dreams of an eventful life. This was it. I had been predestined to die as a mere child, at the age of sixteen. I was helpless. I would never see any of my friends again, would never again feel the wind caressing my face, would never see the sparkling stars on the night sky again, would never be able to achieve anything in my life. My life was over. A single tear rolled down the side of my motionless face.

**This is gonna get very very ugly very very soon... in the next chapter, actually. Please review, that motivates me to update faster!**


	3. Pain

**Imagine that, I actually got dizzy writing this...**

**!!!WARNING: DO NOT READ THIS UNLESS YOU'VE GOT STRONG NERVES!!! I MEAN IT!!! **

**You can just leave it out if you don't want to read the sick stuff, the real plot continues in chapter four. That's why this one is so short.**

**Transformers belongs to Hasbro/ Takara.**

**The Dark Horizon**

**Chapter3: Pain**

I wanted to die then and there. Out of exhaustion. Peacefully. Just fall asleep and never wake up. Indeed, I was tired. But I was also scared. More than ever. Being awake, aware of what was happening around me, but not being able to move was the absolute horror. I couldn't live. I couldn't _die_. If I had been able to move, I would have probably killed myself. With a ballpen if necessary. Anything to avoid what was to happen to me now.

I nearly got a heart attack when I was picked up by the huge alien robot who would be my executor. He seemed to notice my shock, though not visible to the outside, but very well recognizable with his scanners and sensitive hands. He lay me down on his surgery table. I couldn't tell if it was warm or cold, it just felt painful to be moved as he took off the bandages which had been wrapped tightly around my body earlier to keep me from bleeding to death.

"Sshhh. Don't worry; you won't feel a thing." His words, which were meant to calm me down, had the opposite effect on me. I was placed on my stomach before he pinned me down with one of his huge fingers on my back. If my breath was quickening or if I stopped breathing completely I didn't know. My senses were betraying me. I didn't hear well, didn't see well. But I _did_ feel. I _felt_ it when he pressed something to the back of my neck, when he sliced through my skin and my nerves with it. I _felt_ the warm blood gushing out of my neck. I wanted to scream so desperately, to scream until my voice gave out, to beg for mercy, anything. I got dizzy, and sick. I would have thrown up, but there wasn't anything left in my stomach to puke out.

Assuming I was paraplegic from the neck down, Ratchet forgot all gentleness and started to slice my back open with deadly precision. He was wrong. Obviously even super-advanced robots from outer space made mistakes. I felt everything, I just couldn't move. I couldn't even cry anymore because I was so dehydrated. The world around me was spinning. My body moved passively as a reaction to the dance of Ratchet's scalpel. The blood was already forming a huge puddle under me and I was lying in it, face down. I hated the stench of blood, I hated it profoundly. The red, sticky fluid got into my nose, mouth and eyes. It was like acid, burning me mercilessly. He opened my skin along the spine, from top to bottom, then moved his blade over my sides; the vibrations it caused when it made contact with my bones were screeching through my whole physique, torturing me into a state of mind where I didn't know what was worse: feeling my body being truncated or just _knowing_ what was being done to me. He grabbed the open edges of my skin and started to pull it from my ribs. It made a ripping noise, like fabric being torn apart. Only more muffled.

Why did god, or whoever was up there in heaven, let this monster from another world make me suffer so much? Why did no one stop him when he let his scalpel cut through the flesh on the back of my arm and pull it off like a long glove? Why didn't he let me _die_? How could I just be _alive_ anymore??

Ratchet turned me around to work at my front. I could see his face hovering above me as he sliced, pulled and hollowed out my innards. I saw no mercy in his optics, no sympathy, only plain and sterile concentration. To me, it was the face of a cold killer, of a sadist. A machine. I should have been dead by now, I really should have been. I would have been glad if I had been just unconscious, but I wasn't. Why had I fainted repeatedly before, but now I couldn't? I was still there, on this goddamn surgery table, in that room created by satan himself, where I had entered as a relatively happy girl and where I was now being taken apart, muscle fiber by muscle fiber. What I would have given for salvation. I could hear a distinct smack when he threw a big piece of my skin, which he had removed, to the side. Then he took another, smaller tool and neared my face. Slowly, he scraped out my eyes, let the liquid captured inside escape, ripped out my tongue, cut out my vocal chords. I could still see though. But still, _I couldn't die_. I could still hear after he had cut off my ears. I could still _feel _after he had skinned me. I smelled my blood mixing with other body fluids, pouring out of my frazzled organs. It hurt. It hurt so much.

I thought he would probably crack my skull now, like a nut. I imagined the sound it would make; the dry snap and the squish after that. I imagined my battered, bloody brain falling on the table, imagined that I would still feel what no one, be they human or not, should endure. He didn't crack it, though. Instead, he started scraping another tool over my skeleton, removing every last bit of what I had been once. Who I had been. And although he had removed everything that had marked me as a living being, I was still _there_.

When he seemed content with his work, he took me off the surgery table. I sensed the way I perceived the things around me had changed. The touch of his hand was way more intense, more dolorous, but warmer, way more... existent. He carried me somewhere, but in my pain and fear I didn't pay attention, bloody witnesses of my torture dripping to the ground. Shock hit me when ice-cold fluid enveloped my body. Again, I wanted to scream and struggle, but still I couldn't. I hadn't bled to death in Ratchet's workshop, so I should be drowned now? I couldn't breathe. On reflection, I didn't remember breathing for a while. I noticed I didn't _need_ to breathe. The Autobot lifted me out of the cold tub just to put me into another one. He kept me in there longer. I was freezing, but my body didn't shudder, devoid of all reflexes.

I thought another excruciatingly cold bath was to come when he lifted me back out, but this time, to my surprise, the amber liquid I was plunged into was warm and viscous. His hands let go of me. The room got dark, Ratchet left. Slowly, very slowly I sank down into the tank, stunned to experience something that was not painful.

The liquid wrapped around me, caressing my sore torso like a loving mother's kiss, bringing welcomed numbness with it and spreading the warmth in my limbs. My heart slowed. I couldn't think clearly, I only knew that I had survived. Weak, scared and unable to communicate, but I had. My fingers twitched. And finally, oblivion came over me, like a huge black cloud, dazing me and lulling me into a dreamless, fitful sleep.

**The worst part (for now) is over. You can open your eyes again now. Writing this chapter really scared me. I guess I'm working with my greatest fears here *shudder*. I think at the end of the story I've either reached clarity or insanity.**


	4. Born Anew

**The Dark Horizon**

**Chapter4: Born Anew**

Blurred images entered my mind. Robotic faces hovering above me, mechanical voices sounding. I didn't know if I was dreaming or really seeing them, if I was asleep or awake. However, I was warm, I wasn't in pain and I was getting some rest and that was all I cared about at the moment. I only wanted to sleep. But the voices grew louder and louder around me, starting to hurt my ears. Silently, I grabbed on to my head and turned to my side, trying to doze off again. They wouldn't let me. Something warm touched my shoulder, squeezing it gently. I opened my eyes, still half asleep. Armor parts of metal , tires and joints of all sizes and colors were gathered in front of me. That was when I woke with a start, sat up quickly and scuttled away from my dangerous visitors immediately, almost falling off the table I had obviously been sleeping on.

"I take it the surgery has been a success." I heard the enormous red, blue and silver Autobot to my right say. I just sat there and stared, shivering with fear.

"Yes, sir. It was relatively uncomplicated. The shell has been removed completely."

Surgery? Shell? I put one and one together and assumed they were talking about me and the humanity I had lost- I didn't even know when it had happened, or how long I had been out. Before I could do anything the CMO grabbed me by the back of my neck and lifted me about ten feet over the table just before dropping me again, my body reacting on its own, turning mid-air and landing on its hands and feet graciously.

"Her reflexes are just perfect. She'll also start consuming the raw materials necessary for her growth soon and..." he looked at the floor gloomily "...and soon she'll be full grown and ready to bear sparklings." Ratchet started to forage between some of his tools at the side of the table. Optimus frowned.

"But she's so...thin." Sideswipe grumbled, looking disappointed.

"Don't worry. She's got the right genes to become a lean, but strong and healthy femme. She'll probably still won't be remarkably big, although that won't hinder her reproduction abilities."

"Very well, then. You're to take care of her until then. You'll watch her 24/7 oh and Ratchet" Optimus said threatingly, leaning closer to the medic (and therefore over me, casting his huge shadow over my body, causing me to crawl away from him a little, but considering I was surrounded by those giants, I actually had nowhere to run) "I'm making _you_ responsible if _anything_ happens to her, so watch her _good_. Do I make myself perfectly clear?" "...yes, sir..." Ratchet said, his voice barely above a whisper. "What was that?" Optimus snapped, his body tensing visibly. "Yes, sir!"

After a few seconds of Optimus staring down the medical officer, he left, followed by his subordinates, all except one. While they were pooling out of the room, I dared to peel my eyes off them and look down at myself. I didn't like what I saw there. It was not my body, not what I'd been used to and certainly not what I wanted to be. A thin, fragile looking... thing with a flat chest, consisting of curved silver and copper metal plates, hydraulics and cables was where my body once used to be, its thin limbs beginning to shiver in the cool air. I slowly lifted my, now too, metal hands in front of my face to inspect them. My wrists were framed with bracelet -like metal plates and the fingers ended in sharp talons. I started sobbing quietly, hugging my metal limbs to my body and although I realized I could never go back to my old life, that I had reached the point of no return where no one I had once loved would recognize me anymore, I was relatively calm. My forehead thumped into my knees with a clang and my eyes- no, _optics_- started to itch from being clamped shut so tightly.

I now understood why I had been hidden and I couldn't help but wonder if my mother had suffered the same fate, but then again, I hardly knew anything about her. She obviously had not wanted this for me, had maybe even loved me. It was then that something came to my mind, something I was sure every orphan had at some point dreamt of. I wasn't exactly a child anymore (well, for _their_ standards I probably was), but still I wanted someone to be here, to embrace me and tell me everything would be alright and I wondered if my real mother had forgotten about me. Or if she would come to take me with her one day. And my father? Was he with her? I could be sure it was none of the mechs I had encountered, considering how they had treated me. I had fallen silent in the meantime. Yes, I imagined my parents, my real parents coming back for me and getting me out of here. A doubtlessly stupid and unlikely fantasy, but still it gave me hope.

I looked over at Ratchet, who was busying himself with some kind of electronic book. Autobots. Fighting for freedom and equality my ass. Those heaps of scrap metal had turned out to me just as ruthless as... it made me wonder what the Decepticons were like. If I was lucky, they'd turn out to be better than what I had heard about them, but if I was not...

"You're so quiet." Ratchet stated, filling a small canister with a pink fluid. I looked up at him and shot him a glare before returning to my cowering position. I almost jumped when one of the blankets I had previously been sleeping on was wrapped around my shoulders carefully. Feeling too tired to try and run again, I wrapped the thick fabric around my body tighter, relishing the warmth it spread over my metal skin.

"You know, you might try and get used to your vocal processor. Synthesizing sounds with it is different from using human vocal chords." Actually I had planned to tell him to shut the fuck up or equally friendly things whenever I had the opportunity to do so, but although I wasn't too keen on following his advice I tried to yell at him, just to experience that said vocal processor didn't quite want to cooperate, releasing a static hiss when I tried to speak. It was a terrible sound, and being in a situation where I couldn't express myself _again_ made me more than upset. I kept hissing like that for a while and every time I tried to produce an acceptable sound and failed, I got angrier. I was infuriated to say the least when that damn medic started laughing about me like I was some infant doing something incredibly adoring and funny. Saluting him with my middle finger I watched with dread as he attached something that looked like a pacifier to the little container. It was a baby bottle. I was _not _a baby!

The Primes words returned to my mind. Ratchet was supposed to take care of me, to _protect_ me. His leader would certainly rip him a new one if anything happened to me, including Ratchet himself harming me. That little fact formed a plan in my head. A stupid plan that probably wouldn't get me anywhere but it would probably be some kind of entertainment for the period of my imprisonment (which I feared would be quite a while).

Hissing and spitting didn't do any good as he came over to me and grabbed me by the back of my neck again, leaving me dangling from his fingers for a moment like a kitten would from its mother's jaw before cradling me in his palm. I didn't know how he did it but suddenly he managed to put the suckle into my mouth and start to feed me, but I wouldn't let him do his job that easily. I squirmed, kicked his hand with my feet, bucked against the bottle, hissing all the time. He wanted a baby? He'd get a nightmare! Changing my strategy; I sucked some of the bottle' fluid into my mouth and squirmed long enough to get that humiliating piece of rubber out. My mouth full of energon I glared up at Ratchet, who looked kind of content...yet. It didn't taste bad; strange, but not bad, nevertheless I'd teach that damn robot a lesson.

"Come on, swallow it. You need more energy, kid." My mouth curled into an evil smile over my now hamster-like cheeks before releasing all of the energon onto his face, chest and arms. I'd understate if I said he looked stunned. He looked hilarious. Lime green and silver armor with pink spots all over his torso, what a combination of colors! Of course I was aware of my own body also being full of the liquid, but at the moment there was nothing I could have cared less about. And to my relief my vocal processor finally started releasing understandable sounds. Static grew into shrieking and shrieking into a metallic cackle. I laughed so hard I started to cough, then continued laughing at the medic's perplexed expression. Ratchet was just standing there, frozen, energon dripping off his frame.

"You've got a strange sense of humor, sparkling." said the mech while lowering me to the table and starting to clean himself roughly with a rag. I managed to squeak out a decent 'fuck you' with a still very strange sounding voice between my laughs and rolled around on my back. His confusion had turned into an oh-shit-how-am-I-supposed-to-put-up-with-that-expression when he tried to clean me and I successfully kicked his hands away. I wondered how many stunts I could pull before he snapped? I decided that, if I had to stay here I'd make it worth the while and find out. I hand suffered through his hands, now he would suffer through mine. Through my hands, feet, mouth and anything within my reach that I could throw or spit at him. I wanted revenge and as long as this mech had to take care of me, I would make his life a living hell.

He picked me back up and tried to insert the feeding appliance into my mouth again, but I managed to dig my razor sharp teeth into its side and cause it to gush energon all over my shoulder. I growled and tightened my bite on the suckle, throwing my head from side to side like a predator trying to rip a piece of flesh out of its prey, breaking the soft material. Sighing, Ratchet managed to pull the bottle away, shaking his head as he took in the damage I had done to it. It also was half empty by now, but its contents were obviously not where Ratchet had intended for them to end up.

Additionally I decided I'd empty my now full mouth on him again, adding a new layer of color to my artwork before falling into another fit of evil giggling. Again, he sighed.

"Kid, you're making this harder for both of us. Look, I have to see to your health and you need to-"

"I don't need to do anything!" I screamed, throwing my now energon-soaked blanket at him for emphasis. Ratchet was looking kind of desperate by now.

"No matter what you do, you can't make me obey! I'll be no one's slave, you hear me? If I choose to starve before taking anything from you, THEN I WILL! And don't you dare thinking I'd pass any opportunity to cause YOU problems! Watch your back, medic! WATCH YOUR BACK!" I kept screaming the last sentence over and over again while he picked me up and put me into the glass box where I started punching and kicking the walls of my prison.

After shaking his head one last time he left. I kept screaming and thrashing, but as soon as the med bay doors closed behind him I collapsed into the pillows, staining them with the pink fluid. I supposed he knew I was indeed very hungry and weakened, but I'd put on this act until either he gave up or I dropped dead. I thanked god for my acting experience. It may sound strange, but I tended to stage my whole day, even when I was by myself. To me, it was a form of art to almost never do anything imprudently, always analyzing the current situation, thinking of possible scenes, choosing the best one and acting it out, all in a split second. I wondered if my grades in school would have been better (okay, they've never been _that _bad, but still) if I had used more of my brain capacity for my lessons rather than for creating scenes, worrying about a thousand things and doodling everywhere I shouldn't be at the same time.

My fingers twitched as I lay in the box, staring up at the infrared lamp. What I would have given for a sheet of paper and a couple of pens! How I longed to draw something, anything, no matter what... but it was unlikely that I'd get my hands on anything of that kind in the next time (not counting my food being spit onto the medic's armor).

Slowly, actually wanting to go back to sleep but deciding against it, I sat up and looked at the small cracks in the glass I had obviously caused earlier, tracing one of them with my clawed index finger, creating a screeching sound of metal on glass. If my hands were made of metal, then maybe...My right hand curled into a fist and I pulled it back to gain momentum, but hesitated. Robot or not, this would hurt. I clamped my optics shut and collided my fist with the glass, using every bit of strength I had left- and felt my fingers shatter, the joints pop, the throttle cables snap. I cried out, clutching my hand to myself in an instant. Whimpering, I sunk back down into the pillows and closed my optics. I would probably never be able to escape, would I? My sob resounded in the glass box. Maybe I would never see my friends again, or my family. Another sob. Maybe I would never be free again. But I sure would try, again and again.

By now I was shaking as one sob rattled my body after the other, but no tears were leaving my optics. I couldn't even cry properly. It sucked not to be able to shed tears. What would happen to me now? To them, I was an infant. But what when I was grown up? I remembered what Prime and Ratchet had talked about. Reproduction. I was a female Transformer among what? 20 or 30 males? The thought made me feel sick. Hadn't Prime told me they were going extinct? That was why they had brought me here. Male Autobots. Fucking _huge_ Autobots. I shuddered. While I knew nothing about their matters of reproduction, I was pretty sure it would hurt. What if it resembled the way humans did it? If the Autobots intimate parts were just remotely proportional to their bodies... they would tear me apart, without doubt. Clenching my thighs together closely, I whimpered. If I didn't want them to do certain things to me they would probably use force. Which wouldn't be too hard for them considering their size and strength. I was now wailing loudly. I didn't want to be here and I didn't want to be used by them. I needed to get out.

But even if I did make it, where was I supposed to go? Off planet? Impossible. I knew next to nothing about space travel and even if I had a ship I wouldn't even know how to get the engine started. Go back to my family? Nope. Even if they believed that the alien robot standing in front of them was their daughter, what were they supposed to do? Hide me? The Autobots would have me back before I could say "Surrealism". Running from them would be difficult...very, very difficult...

My hand still hurt. After a while my brain, or processor, or whatever was there in my head, got tired over thinking about a solution to my problem. I was running out of ideas and I was running out of energy to think about them, for now... finally I lost the ability to think straight and my optic covers got heavy...

XXXXXXXXXX

I awoke to the sound of doors being opened with a bang and bots storming in. Ratchet at the front, followed by Ironhide carrying Sideswipe, who was pressing his hand to his midsection, groaning in pain. Energon was bleeding from his wound, forming puddles on the ground below. Prime and Jazz came into med bay after them. The heavily injured mech was placed on a repair berth where Ratchet began with his work immediately. Sideswipe screamed in agony, struggling, but being held down by Optimus and Ironhide. I noticed the other mechs were covered in wounds and blast marks themselves, their blackened armor full of dents and scratches.

"Main energon line severed. Pressure decreasing drastically. Acidic spill under the main pump." The CMO said tonelessly, already buried in Sideswipes heaving chassis up to the elbows. Ironhide growled.

"Fragging Decepticreeps."

Prime nodded sternly, holding the smaller Autobots shoulders down. "They know the child's here. They're getting nervous."

Ironhide looked from the squirming robot over to me. I was half hiding behind one of the pillows, clutching my broken hand. "She hurt or wha?"

Ratchet sighed. "Not that I know of. Still, the kid decided to make a mess of her food. Looks like she's more of the defiant type."

I curled up in a tight ball, shivering and sobbing quietly. Something tapped against the glass box. I faintly recognized the informal language of the other silver mech in the room, Jazz. "Ya sure it's only da food, doc? Looks like it's becomin' more. It's tricklin' down her arm."

Ratchet looked up quickly, but resumed his work after a second or two. "I don't have time to take a look at her now. If I don't repair Sideswipe now, there's no telling what the acid might do to the rest of his systems. Just leave her be. If her vitals were critical, I would have been informed." After a few minutes or so Sideswipe had stopped moving completely. If he had fainted or if Ratchet had sedated him I didn't know, nor did I care. The other three mechs had left since their assistance was no longer required.

I didn't remember falling asleep again, but I woke up when I was lifted out of the box and onto a slab. I groaned in protest, not even fully awake again. I had slept for at least a few hours, but it felt like I was even more tired than before. "Oh dear. Kid, what did you do?" Ratchet took hold of my injured hand carefully, turning it over slowly. I tried to pull it away from his big fingers, but found little to no strength residing in my limbs. I tried to fight off sleep desperately, but I felt weaker every minute. My stomach hurt. I was hungry. I wanted to eat. Anything. But I wouldn't since anything edible would be offered by the accused medic. I sat, swaying back and forth tiredly while my hand was being reassembled with surprising gentleness. When Ratchet was finished with my hand, he cleaned me with a wet cloth and tried to offer me a bottle of energon again, but I refused to let him feed me.

"Come on. You need to refuel. Don't be so damn stubborn." Groaning once again, I turned my head away, optics half closed. He sighed, like so often. "Fine. If you don't want it that way..." He filled a needle-less syringe with the pink stuff and half shoved the short tube at its end down my throat. I tried to struggle, but the huge metal fingers of his kept me in place as the energon was pressed out of the syringe and directly into my stomach. I was full quickly, but that didn't mean I liked it. I had let him feed me. Okay I was half asleep and weakened but still... for now, I had lost. He once again cradled me in his hand, massaging my belly with one finger slowly. I wanted to yell at him, to fight him off or do anything against this unwanted affections, but the food had only helped in making me more tired. Undoubtedly it's digestion was taking even more energy from me right now. I squirmed weakly before the warmth of Ratchets hand around me induced a deep sleep.

**I'm so tired i think I'm gonna drop dead...anyway, please review**


	5. Cybertronian

**The Dark Horizon**

**Chapter 5: Cybertronian**

I felt much better when I woke up, although I was hungry again. I rubbed my optics with my fists, stretched and yawned. What time was it? No one there to ask. I grumbled. I was still angry about what Ratchet had done. Exploited my weakness to force me to eat. Well. I'd get back at him. I remembered my secret oath from when he had first tried to feed me: making him wish he had never been burdened with the task of having to take care of me. Starting with the only things I could reach; the pillows in my glass box. While they hadn't done anything wrong (well, how could they? They were just pillows after all) I was sure Ratchet wouldn't like it at all if I turned them to shreds, would he? So I did what I thought Ratchet wouldn't like. Tore them to shreds. When I had ripped the first one open I was a little stunned to see it was not filled with feathers, but with tiny, fluffy, white balls. I smiled. They were more fun than feathers anyway, although I couldn't quite tell what they were made of. Not that I cared much.

Ratchet half gasped when he entered the room, seeing me sitting in my glass box in a heap of white fluff-balls. He put the pile of strangely shaped metal sheets he had brought with him on his work bench and walked over to my box, crossing his arms in front of his chest. I felt like throwing myself into the next corner or hide beneath my cushioning to scream and cry until I passed out but instead I stuck my tongue out at the medic. Ratchet ignored it and glared at me, tapping his fingers on his forearm. I was getting him annoyed. Oh joy.

"Are we finished?"

"Not while your mind can still form coherent thoughts, no." I hurled some of the fluff- balls up above my head for emphasis and grinned. The green mech sighed and shook his head while collecting the metal objects he had brought in earlier. He switched one of the devices on and showed it to me. It had a big screen, looked kinda like an oversized, alien iPad. There were some glyphs depicted on the screen and English words next to them.

"I guess you won't be very interested in your first lesson?" , he said while I crawled under the heap of white fluff, trying to hide from the medic's vigilant optics.

"Depends. Is it about how to break out of an underground military base or on how to annoy lime green Autobot medics?"

"No."

"Then you can shove it up your... tailpipe... or whatever your equivalent of an ass is." I heard the latches of my glass prison being opened and the top being pushed aside. The rustle of fluff- balls being roamed away and big metal fingers embracing my torso tightly was followed by the sensation of being lifted out of the box. I decided to remain calm for now until a better opportunity presented itself to act differently.

"Don't be so stubborn. If you want to live with us as a member of our society, you need to learn to speak our language, about our rules and customs." My face scrunched into a grimace as he held me in one hand, sitting down on his favorite chair.

"Who's saying I'm staying here? How do you get the idea that I _want_ to live with a bunch of antisocial aliens?"

"Firstly, not all of us are antisocial. Secondly, look at yourself. You're one of us. Where else would you stay, if not with your own kind?" He had a point there. Still, I refused to settle with the thought of staying with my kidnappers, my punishers.

"I'll think of something. I'm very creative, you know?" His optics glinted with amusement.

"Oh, I don't doubt that. After all, some of our undercover agents have investigated your work. I'm impressed, I must admit that much." So that's where some of my pictures in school had disappeared to. His grip on me loosened as an effect of the light conversation. That was the clue for my next attempt of escape. I quickly wriggled out of his grasp and dropped to the floor, hitting my knee in the progress but ignoring it, bolting for the door as soon as my feet had made contact with the cold metal surface. After a short moment of shock Ratchet stood up and darted after me. Before he could reach me though, I had found the doors were locked and I couldn't possibly push them open, so I opted for 'just get out of his reach' and ran to the high supply shelf instead. It was amazingly easy for me to climb it, considering it had the size of a four- story house and I was still roughly human sized. After only a few seconds I was up on the top and glaring down at Ratchet, who, without climbing on a chair or ladder first, couldn't quite reach me on my high perch. I found a nice (for me) big box I could pry open easily and threw the lid at the medic's head. He managed to dodge it, if only narrowly. The metal case's contents followed soon, raining down on him in the form of human- fist- sized nuts and bolts.

"Stop that! Ouch! Would you- hey!"

"NO! Do you know you've ruined my life?" I threw more bolts at him in the hope of shattering the glass of his optics in case they hit their target, which they didn't, but still. At that moment, I felt so much grief and anger boiling up inside. All those years of working, hoping, all those years of worry, for nothing! It wasn't fair! "I had plans! I could have become a professional artist or designer! I could have fulfilled my dreams! See the world! What am I supposed to do now? WHAT?"

"I DON'T KNOW!" I stopped throwing, surprised by the Autobot's sudden desperation. He looked kinda sad, now that I looked at him.

"Look, I'm very sorry for your loss of perspective, but it wasn't _my_ decision that brought you here nor can I change anything about it." I drew back to the wall behind the shelf where he couldn't see me, sitting down and hugging my legs close.

"Shut up."

"You can't just sit there and hide from yourself. You should finally accept who you are and make the best of it."

"I SAID SHUT UP!" I heard a soft metallic sound and since it made the metal I was sitting on shudder for a split second I assumed he had put his hands on the shelf.

"Alpha, please-" I looked up. What?

"What did you just call me?"

"..."

"What did you just call me?"

"It is... your name. Alpha. The first. Your mother gave it to you." Alpha... that sounded familiar, but... no. My name was Joelle. Joelle, not Alpha.

"My name is Joelle."

"Your name is Alpha, always has been. Joelle was the name of the human girl whom you replaced. Your mother called you Alpha and that's what we're gonna call you."

"What do you know about my mother?" Silence. I heard him shift below.

"She... loved you. And she's gone. That's all I'm gonna tell you." He knew more, but wouldn't tell me. Was there something I wasn't supposed to know? Maybe he had lied, she was still out there and he just wanted to prevent any contact because she'd take me away from them? Maybe more would be revealed soon... I chose to let it be for the moment and come back to it later.

"What about my father?" Transformers didn't reproduce self- sufficiently, did they?

"I don't know nothing about him." No, they obviously didn't.

"Why won't you tell me?"

"I said I don't know who sired you." I don't believe you.

"You do know but you won't tell me, right?" He didn't answer to that. Instead, he changed the topic.

"Please come down there." I curled up in a tight ball again, pressing my palms to my audio receptors in a feeble attempt to block out my surroundings.

"Leave me alone."

"Alpha, please."

"No!" I stood up and shoved the next box available off the shelf. It fell to the floor with a heavy thud, the clattering cacophony of smaller metal objects on the floor telling of its contents spilling out. I leaned against the wall heavily. "Go away..." Tiredness took over again and I closed my optics briefly. My energy storage was almost depleted, my empty stomach making itself known uncomfortably. Soft clicking noises resounded, followed by the sound of parts being placed back in the box.

"Well, if you want to sit on that shelf for the rest of your life, I ain't got a problem with that. But if you're hungry, which I know you are, I suppose you'll have to come down here."

My knee was throbbing, I snorted in a distempered way. "I'd rather starve."

"I don't think so." I opened my optics with a start. I hadn't heard _him_ coming in. Turning around swiftly, I saw the huge and intimidating Autobot leader standing in the doorway and glaring at both me and Ratchet. He looked a little angry, his stance aggressive and tense. Now that I thought about it, the last time I had seen him sporting a somewhat friendly expression had been on the way here. The Prime made me feel uneasy whenever he was around, even more than the medic did. "Ratchet. What's going on here?"

The smaller Autobot stood up hastily and bowed to his superior. "Prime, what takes you here, sir?"

"I wanted to see how far you've come regarding the child's lessons, but it looks like you haven't done anything. So. What is she doing up there? What's that mess supposed all about?" Oh here we go, I thought. Certainly Ratchet would now start complaining about how misbehaved I was and hey, maybe I'd get a different caretaker? One that would help me?

"I'm sorry. Things got a little out of hand for a moment, but everything's fine now. It was my fault." I was surprised he took the blame for something I had done, but still I kinda hoped he would be punished. However, his attempt of distraction from me was quickly ignored, which meant the Prime's attention was now focused on me.

"Come here. Now." I took a step back cautiously.

"No." the huge Autobot looked like he had just been slapped across the face. He was now standing between Ratchet and me. The medic was shaking his head at me, optics widened.

"Say that again." I took another step back.

"Uh... no?" While Ratchet was too small to reach me where I was standing right now, Prime wasn't. Additionally, he was much faster than I had anticipated, grabbing me with a quick sweep of his arm.

"No? Do you need a lesson concerning authority?" He held me up at his eye level, scowling. "Listen now. And listen closely.. You'll do what I tell you to. You speak when I tell you to and you move when I tell you to. You will not question me, you will obey. Is that understood?" I blinked.

"You're not my boss."

"You bet your scrawny little aft I am." The next word was only mumbled, yet he seemed to have heard it clearly and I regretted saying it shortly after it had slipped my mouth.

"Asshole."

"Why you little-" he tightened his grip on me, making me gasp in pain as my body was being constricted to the point when I started seeing stars. In my pain and fright, I almost didn't notice Ratchet stepping in and grabbing his superior's arm.

"Prime, please! She's in a state of psychological shock and doesn't know what she's saying. Please give her some time to adjust; she's not used to our customs!" Prime glared daggers at the medic.

"'Not being used to our customs' is not an excuse for disrespectfulness and you know it." Ratchet looked at me with an unreadable expression.

"Her whole life has been turned upside down within merely four days. Forgive her if she's a little confused." The Autobot leader growled at his subordinate, who made a wise decision in quickly removing his hand from the bigger mech's arm. I did poorly on concealing my fear, shivering and wanting to hide. A slight whirring resonated in my own body, I felt uncomfortably warm. Cooling air started to circulate in my torso. Prime's expression softened, if only a little bit.

"Fine." he spat, putting me down on the next work bench nonchalantly. I fell down on my butt, suddenly very exhausted. Ratchet twitched when his commander shoved his index finger into his face. "I'll check on her progress tomorrow. And if you haven't taught her the basics of our culture by then I wouldn't like being stuck in your hide." The medic nodded stiffly.

"Yes, sir." The red and blue Autobot then turned around on his heel and marched out. When he was gone, I noticed Ratchet relax visibly. He braced himself against the repair berth and sighed.

"What was that all about?" I finally dared to speak again.

"Do you have any idea how close that was?" I shrugged, then shook my head.

"Why did you defend me? You had no reason to." Ratchet cast me a tired glance.

"It was the right thing to do. Still, you must be more careful around Optimus. He's dangerous and I can't always protect you." I crossed my legs and looked down at my clawed hands, turning them over. I didn't know what to think. First Ratchet had forced me to humiliate myself, had hurt me, killed my humanity, humiliated me again and now he had protected me. Why? What was the meaning of all of this? Frustrated, I buried my face in my hands. I heard him move, but I couldn't have cared less at the moment. The whirring in my body stopped before he spoke up again.

"I had asked Prime to give you an own room where you could move about freely, but I fear we can forget that now. Here." I looked up, only to see the refilled baby bottle in front of me again. I turned away.

"I won't let myself be fed like a baby. Especially not by you." He smiled.

"If you don't want to be treated like a sparkling, you should stop behaving like one." I blew air through my teeth, creating an irritating sound.

"Oh spare me the lecture." My stomach stung with hunger, but I wouldn't beg. If he didn't give me the bottle to drink myself, I wouldn't drink at all. "Just give me the damn bottle."

"Language."

"I can swear as much as I like, you fucking bastard." Still smiling, but shaking his head, he put the bottle down in front of me and went to work on something else. Having reassured myself he had left me alone for now, I focused my attention on the over- dimensional baby bottle. Its contents were, just like the last time I had been fed, a shimmering pink. I remembered the rich, treacly taste and its satiable effect. My stomach stung again. It was food. Pure and simple. Me: hungry, food: in front of me, conclusion: eat. Or in this case, drink. The bottle was about the size of my whole arm and so, not without some difficulties, I pulled the cap with the suckle off. It was heavy when I lifted it, but I found the sensation of the warm, sweet fluid trickling down my throat to be highly pleasing. I hated to admit that, while I was drinking, I had to wonder how I could have ever liked the taste of fruits, vegetables and meat. How could I have eaten those things that, compared to energon, tasted like nothing? Now that I thought about it the organic food kinda made me feel sick... no! No, organic food was for humans and being a human was good. I wanted to be human again, to just be one of billions... It was amazing how much of the pink fuel fit into my stomach since only after what must have been almost two gallons of energon, I felt full, relatively content and tired.

I didn't want to fall asleep on the work bench though, so I stood up and clumsily searched for a safe place to sleep. I couldn't escape now, not in my weak condition and so I hoped I'd feel better after a little nap. After all, they didn't want to kill me, just keep me here, right? I'd find a way to get out, but it would be hard, strenuous and dangerous. So I would rest, at least for now. Ratchet didn't pay me much attention, being caught up in whatever he was doing. When I had climbed off the slab, I proceeded over to a cabinet of which I thought the doors could be opened easily. I was right. And I was lucky, since when I climbed inside, I found a large box full of rags. Some of them were grimy and blackened and they all smelled like oil, dry energon or other things I couldn't quite identify, but they were soft and so I made myself comfortable after pulling the cabinet's doors closed behind me. I curled up between the layers of fabric before sleep (or recharge...?) overtook me.

XXXXXXXXXX

I wasn't in the cabinet when I woke. Nor was I in some place I had ever been before. I sat up quickly and looked around. I was alone and the room was almost empty, except for a vacant Autobot- sized shelf, an equally huge desk and chair plus the berth I was sitting on. The only light was coming from a dim lamp over the door and my optics. I rubbed my face with my hands, having to be careful not to scratch myself with the claws. Ratchet must have brought me here when I had been recharging, that jerk. My optics shot back to the top of the shelf. There, almost out of sight, a small vent was embedded in the wall close to the ceiling that might have been just big enough for me to fit through. Quickly the shelf was climbed and I was tugging and tearing at the access cover. It came off after a while and with quite some effort, I ripped the fan out and threw it aside. The pipe ahead of me still looked small and dark, but for now, it was the only way to escape, so I squeezed inside head first. It was tight, but not impossible to crawl through, at least I thought so until I was three feet in.

Then I was stuck. I growled angrily while trying to go on in vain. Okay, I had to go back out and find another way. Next problem, I couldn't get out. Somehow my shoulders had wedged themselves in a way that didn't allow me to go anywhere. Fuck. I tried not to panic, but no matter how much I struggled, how I tried to get a hold of something and push or pull myself out again, my body wouldn't budge. Finally, I surrendered to just lying in the pipe partially. Could it be that I had grown already? Probably not. Nah. Or at least, I hoped not. If I didn't grow, my chances of creeping through some tight places where the Autobots couldn't follow and, if I did get out, hiding amongst the humans were much better. Sure I would have to find some kind of disguise, a Santa Clause costume if need be, that wouldn't stick out at this time of year anyway.

I wasn't so sure what day it was today, but I knew it must have been close to christmas and that thought alone made me want to curl up and cry. It was the time when the whole family came together to celebrate, when the scent of cookies would fill first the kitchen in my parent's house, then the living room and finally the rest of the building. It was the time when I'd decorate the christmas tree in a way that made my father flinch but also smile at the same time, since my ideas of decoration had always been a little... strange. I remembered a time when I had hung little plastic pumpkins, skelettons and bats onto the small green branches and my father had thought I just didn't know where we had put the christmas decoration and that I should just admit that I had been too lazy to search for it. My parents. What were they doing now, I wondered? Searching for me? Worrying? Staring at the blank spot in front of the chimney where I had usually been sitting on a large pillow, drawing or reading? I felt sorry for them. I hadn't even had the chance to say goodbye to them.

Then again, I cursed myself for going with Optimus willingly and without thinking much about it in the first place. That had been stupid, just so stupid... I had left behind everything I loved _and_ my future, for what? The promise of adventure? Had I only known what I was getting myself into, I would never have gone with him... I sighed. It was too late now and as much as I wished my life had a button I could press and erase everything that had happened in the last week or so, I knew it was impossible. There was only one way: onward. Okay, in this case, considering I was stuck in a vent, probably not.

It seemed like hours passed while it couldn't have been more than a few minutes before the door opened, someone stepped in and closed it again. I couldn't see for my body was obscuring my view, but I heard him move through the room.

"Alpha. Where are you hiding?" It was Ratchet. Should I call for help? I couldn't move...

"I'm... here. I'm stuck." I said, the metallic walls of my little temporary prison making the sound waves of my voice resound.

"You're..." I heard him move "...oh. Oh. There you are." Though I couldn't see it, it sounded like he was moving the shelf aside. His hands grasped my legs gently, but he didn't pull. "It's your shoulders, right?"

"What?"

"Your shoulders are stuck."

"I think so." He paused, obviously thinking.

"You know I don't want to risk damaging you. I'll get some lubrication."

"Pig."

"I don't mean it _that _way. Just... wait here."

"Oh really." He came back a short time later and sprayed me with what I supposed to be oil, then tried to carefully pull me out of the ventilation system. It took a few minutes and it was exhausting, but eventually Ratchet managed to free me of this embarrassing situation. So now there I was sitting on his palm, full of oil and with scratched shoulders. I stared at my hands in my lap. This was awkward. His index finger brushed over my smeared cheek and I pushed him away. He shook his head, a small smile flashing over his face for a split second.

"Lets get you cleaned up, shall we? You'll be good or I won't help you next time." He walked out the room and I realized the door led to the storage room behind med bay. Ratchet entered another room with me; it was the one I had been brought to after the surgery. Now that I looked at it, it looked like some kind of alien bath room. It held several tanks filled with various liquids, and a huge shower in the corner. "So while we're at it" he said, putting me down on top of some machine reminding me of an over dimensioned dishwasher before taking some small bottles out of a cabinet. "we could very well start your lessons."

"No."

"Why are you making this so difficult?"

"Because I want to."

"Look." Ratchet rubbed some of the liquid from the first bottle into a soft rag and handed it to me so I could clean myself. "There are some rules on this base and in our society in general that you need to know. Some of our people, like our Prime, are kind of strict concerning those and I wouldn't recommend for you to clash with him. So please, for your own sake you should at least let me tell you the basics."

"Just leave me alone." He stopped whatever he had been doing over at the cabinet and looked at me.

"I know you don't want to be here and to be honest, neither do I. But sitting around sulking won't help." He leaned in close, his voice barely above a whisper. "Listen, I... I understand you want to leave. I really do. Don't get me wrong, I _want_ to help you, I just _can't_."

"If you understand it then why did you try to stop me? Why didn't you let me leave?" He sighed.

"Simple. You're not ready to leave. Even if you made it out of base, what then? You don't know enough of our world yet to survive alone. You need to learn certain things first. About our people, about your possibilities, about the dangers. About yourself. You can't just run out there without a plan; you'll be caught or maybe even worse."

"I still don't get why you'd want to help me. You. Of all people."

"I know the Autobots and I know the Decepticons. And I know Prime. I know what's going to happen and I want to spare you that fate. I know you're a good little femme, even if you might not always behave like it. I think you deserve a chance." I closed my optics. This sounded so irrational, and it probably was. He probably just wanted to trick me, to make me trust him so they could go on with their devilish plans without further complications.

"You teach me things that might help me to escape for good. But what do you expect in return?"

"I expect cooperation. Nothing more."

"Really."

"Really."

"How am I supposed to know if I can trust you?"

"Do you have a choice?" No, I probably didn't. Still the thought of trusting the Autobot medic didn't settle well with me for whatever reason. I was finished wiping off the oil by now, the best I could at least.

"Fine. So. What am I up against?"

XXXXXXXXXX

"What about the colonies?"

"In the golden age, Cybertron had a total of 47 colony planets, most of which were lost during the riots leading up to the great war." I droned on, not actually interested in the history of the alien's home planet. God, this was like being questioned in school. "Now it has got... merely... seven?"

"Eight. But alright. You may resume your lessons now." With that Prime turned around and left. I showed off my lean middle finger again after he had closed the door behind him.

"You wish you stupid, shit-eating, oversized, motherfucking excuse of a fender." I hissed cantankerously, but quietly. The Autobot commander was just... just... such an asshole. A few minutes ago, he had just entered the room in all his audacity and had started to ask all sorts of questions, some even in Cybertronian, easy ones of course, what my name was and such (I had told him my name was Joelle, which he had begrudgingly accepted as an answer), about decent cybertronian behavior, about the politics, history and the culture of their people. I walked over to the table's edge where my blanket was waiting for me, sat down on it and wrapped the rest around myself. I had noticed I was feeling cold almost constantly; maybe it had something to do with the fact that I now had such a small mass and lacked insulation of any kind.

"You better don't let him hear you using such vulgar vocabulary. He doesn't like swearing and he doesn't like being insulted." Ratchet said from somewhere behind me.

"I'm not insulting people because I want to do them a favor." I flipped through the datapad he had given to me earlier, which was actually too big for me to handle, but what the fuck. The alien glyphs started to make sense slowly, even without the English translation. I noticed I could now take in more and remember it mostly correctly than I had been able to before I had been turned into... this. It seemed that something had changed in my brain, no, processor, as well. I was learning things faster. The dictionary part of the datapad was even a little fun to play with. I tried to say something in Cybertronian, a rather stupid human joke roughly translated into the other language, only to have Ratchet inform me of the word order being incorrect and me pronouncing some of the words weirdly. "Besides," he stated matter- of- factly, "I don't get what's supposed to be funny about that. It doesn't even make sense."

"Oh I don't expect an underdeveloped creature such as you to understand such sophisticated humor."

"What are you implying?" He sat a new bottle of energon down beside where I was sitting before leaning onto the table, braced on his forearms.

"You're always whining about how little you appreciate human culture and so on. Don't you think it's impolite to insult another's heritage?" I looked up at him, he looked back.

"I'm not insulting human customs. Besides, it's not your real heritage." Again, I pulled the suckle off the bottle, tossing it aside. Why did he even bother with those stupid things?

"That's beside the point. You can't just condemn civilizations that might be different from what you know."

"What have I said that makes you think I don't appreciate human achievements?" I took a sip of the energon and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

"Oh you know, when you're talking about cybertronian culture you're always like 'this works this way and it's waaay different from what the humans use to do and oh my god Cybertron is so awesome and Earth sucks' and so on."

"The humans are a rather young species and I'm sure they'll learn in time. You need to consider though that our civilization is way older and there's no telling what human society will be like in a few million years. Although I doubt they will last that long."

"Why?" He snorted, pushing himself up again so he was standing completely upright again.

"They seem to have an urge to destroy each other. I guess they will kill every living being on the planet before their civilization has a chance to bloom. It's so... primitive." I laughed, almost choking on my food. I still wasn't quite used to this body. And my voice still sounded funny.

"Says the guy whose species is going extinct because of some stupid war. How primitive is that?"

"Well... well, you might have a point there. Yes, it's kind of paradoxical now that I think of it." He chuckled although the matter we were discussing was one that was actually posing a rather inconvenient and tragic threat to his species' very existence. After I had emptied a quarter of the bottle, I decided to address another topic.

"How does transforming work?"

"It's a rather complicated combination of physical adjustments, coding and body control. It takes a lot of practice, too. Only adult bots can transform, so don't even try. You'll just end up hurting yourself."

"I can't even do the trick with transforming single body parts into I don't know, tools or weapons?"

"No. And I doubt you'll ever be allowed weapons."

"Aww, man. This sucks."

**Please review...**


	6. Shadows of Christmas

**The Dark Horizon**

**Chapter 6: Shadows of Christmas**

I woke up in the room with the bed, desk and shelf again, which was, I had been told, my room. Ratchet had explained that it had originally been intended to be his private chamber, but that he never used it anyway so I could have it. I wasn't so sure if that was entirely true (where did he recharge, then?), but I was grateful for the privacy, even if the furnishing was kind of dull. Dull was an understatement, but whatever. I yawned, my mouth opening much wider than it would have had I still been human. There were some quite astounding aspects to this body, I had to admit that much. It was way more flexible than an ordinary human body, I could move much quicker too and yet I felt weak. Maybe it was because of the presence of the much bigger Autobots or that this was practically the body of a mere baby, nevertheless I didn't think I could overpower _anything_ right now. Not even a guinea pig.

I blinked. _That_ had definitely not been there at the time I went to bed. A few feet away from me on my bed that was big enough to accommodate a bot like Ratchet and therefore was actually way too big for someone my size, there was a large cubical box, wrapped up in what seemed to be... gift wrap paper? At least to me it was large. I faintly remembered watching a cartoon where someone would always receive a gift, unwrap it happily only to have it blow up in their face when I had been a little child, but then again, it probably weren't _my_ memories. Crazy. Cautiously I stood up, my curiosity getting the better of me. The paper was light blue with yellow dots and a, for a box of that size, too small golden bow on top. A little note had been attached to the bow; it was a bit creasy as if the person who had prepared it had had trouble to handle such a tiny piece of paper. It read "Merry Christmas". I had forgotten about Christmas. It was the morning of December the 25th and I had completely forgotten about it.

Melancholy returned. The past days I had been busy learning all sorts of stuff, scheming and trying to avoid contact with anyone (I failed miserably), I had been so occupied it didn't even occur to me that time had flowed on without me. Time. That was something I had found out was precious now. I only had two years. About two years until my body was full grown, until... I needed to escape as soon as possible. And hopefully, even if I felt weak, I would be able to overpower a soldier, which was essential to my plan. Well, first things first. The package being filled with explosives was very unlikely, so I decided to find out about its contents. Shredding the cardboard box was easy enough with my metal claws and soon I had a clear view of what was inside.

Canvasses in various sizes and shapes, a small easel, turpentine, brushes and oil colors. I couldn't describe how happy I was to have something, _anything_ to work with again. Something I could express myself with (because I wasn't much of a talker and no one would listen to me anyway). I wondered who had left the present here for me. Probably Ratchet. Most likely. Who else did I know here? Optimus Prime? He probably didn't give a shit about what I liked or wanted, judging by his behavior towards me. All the others I had not even talked to. It couldn't possibly be from someone outside of this base either. It had to be from Ratchet. But why would he spend money just so I had something to play with? The painting supplies were rather high class too, as in pretty expensive. The ones I had only been able to dream of whenever I had visited my favorite supplier in the next bigger city.

With the diligent touch of an expert I arranged the tools on my bed, carefully and with a certain amount of awe like I was handling precious and unique sanctuaries. I placed a medium sized canvas on the easel and- nothing. Usually, I would have had trouble deciding for implementing one of millions of my ideas at a time, but not now. Now, there was nothing. There was a knock on my door. With a voice that mirrored my now suddenly foul mood, I answered. It was Ratchet. He didn't seem to notice all the stuff on my bed, instead picking me up so I could have my morning energon and continue my lessons. Cybertronian rules of conduct. Again. This was useless. I asked for some datapads on anatomy, on battle techniques and things like that but all I got was a rather inaccurate one (probably designed for little children) about 'The wonders of your body'. I felt silly reading it.

"Ratchet?"

"Yes?" He was, as always, occupied with repairing something; I thought I recognized it as a piece of armor.

"You're a doctor."

"Yes."

"You'd probably be the bot one should ask if the question has something to do with the cybertronian physique."

"I guess so."

"How do you reproduce?" He stopped whatever he had been doing.

"Why would you want to know that?" I shrugged, turning the childish datapad off and flicking it aside carelessly.

"Curiosity, I guess."

"Well, uh..." He resumed working on the piece of metal before plainly staring at it for a moment and rising to retrieve another tool from his huge supply shelf. "Do you know how humans reproduce?"

"Oh please. I'm not a baby anymore."

"Practically you-"

"Yeah yeah, I know. Sparkling, not full grown, blah blah." I snuggled into my blanket on his workbench, ready for a cybertronian version of 'the talk'. "So how does it work?"

"It..." he scratched the back of his head. Why was this making him nervous? "It kind of resembles the human way to a certain degree. There are no fluids though, the genetic information is passed on through sequences of electronic impulses. Also, when the infant is born, it is merely a spark without a body which is afterward transferred into a protoform that needs to mature further in a gestation pod before it hatches." The wires and hydraulics in my arm glinted in the cool neon light as I flexed them thoughtfully.

"How long does it take?" Ratchet braced his pointy elbows on the workbench's surface, cupping his lower face with both of his palms. The situation seemed to be rather awkward for him, but I didn't care. Hell, if he was a doctor, he should be able to explain this competently.

"The act itself takes about ten or thirty minutes. It is unlikely though for the femme to conceive after only a single intercourse, so the code often has to be transferred four or five times to ensure there are no errors. The duration of the pregnancy is usually about three months for mechs, five for a Prime and eight for a femme sparkling."

"Wait. Why five for a Prime? I thought that was only a rank, not a third gender." The medic looked bewildered, obviously he didn't quite understand my confusion.

"It is... much more than a simple rank. Primes are an advanced variation of the cybertronian race. Equipped with more durable and in relation to their size much stronger bodies, with processors usually specialized on strategy or connatural realms and with a certain amount of sheer stubbornness they are born to lead, without exceptions. However, a Prime's offspring isn't automatically a Prime himself since the genes marking a sparkling as a Prime are rarely passed on."

"And all the others are the workers serving the beehive's queen, aka the Prime." He frowned.

"Well, no. We do have sequences implemented in our programming which are supposed to ensure we obey a Prime if one's around, but we still are more of individuals than mere workers. Besides, the workers of a beehive can't reproduce while technically, we can." He heaved a big and heavy toolbox from the floor beside him onto the table. I felt the strong tremor of it hitting the surface not too gently, my arms automatically grasped at anything in their reach for support. Ratchet then started emptying it onto the table, hands full of wrenches, screwdrivers, pincers and other doohickeys piled in a heap before me. "Where was I?"

"Pregnancy."

"Oh yes." He pulled a rather large tool I couldn't quite classify out of the box, moved a lever attached to it around a bit while listening to its inner workings. He then chucked it over his shoulder casually; it landed precisely in the trash bin. "As I said, the durance differs depending on the sparkling's gender. However, unlike human females, cybertronian femmes don't alter their shape during pregnancy since there is no body growing inside of them so to the outside, there is no indication whether a femme is carrying or not. Also, the birth is less painful and much quicker. Five minutes maximum. The time in the gestation pod varies, but it takes at least four years until the infant hatches and can start its growth." He started cleaning the now empty toolbox with a small, but thankfully rather quiet vacuum cleaner. I looked down at my own body, imagining there would be a spark growing... wherever it would beneath the metal. I didn't like the thought at all. I was afraid to ask the next question, but I'd probably have imagined all kinds of worst case scenarios if I hadn't asked.

"You said the procedure resembles the human way. To... what extent?" His optics swiped the room quickly, no idea why, before a hologram emanated from them, faintly resembling the one of my own body I had seen before the surgery. To me, it seemed like that had been an eternity ago, although it had actually just been a few days. A second body joined the first hologram, but it seemed to be male instead of female. He started explaining the parts of anatomy required for reproduction, pointing out how they fit into each other and would move together so the best possible connection could be established. I felt my legs clenching together unconsciously.

"I don't want that. I... really don't want that." The holograms disappeared, but Ratchet said nothing. My arms wrapped around my small shivering body in a vain gesture to protect myself from the world. "Is there any way other than running away to avoid this?" His shoulders dropped a little, he continued his work with now polishing the tools he had previously splayed out on the table and putting them back into the box.

"You know" he said quietly, the faintest hint of depression audible in his voice "I would very much like to tell you that there's nothing to be afraid of and that we all just want to do what's best for you, but I can only speak for myself. I'd like to tell you that you have a choice and yet I know you don't."

"There_ has_ to be something that can be done!" I stood up and stamped my foot in anger. "If you want to help me, then why can't you just make up a story and tell them I'm barren or something like that? If you're the only medic here, who would be able to prove it?" Said medic closed his optics briefly, venting air and shaking his head.

"They will know when the time has come. They will know. We can't hide it from them and when he finds out, I bet Prime won't waste any time." We. Did he just say 'we'?

"It was you right?"

"What."

"The present. It was you who left it in my room."

"I... thought you'd like it." He didn't look at me, still fumbling with his tools.

"I do. Really. Thank you. Still" I retrieved the datapad I had thrown aside and put it on a neat stack along with the others. A strenuous task considering it was bigger than I. "I don't get why you'd want to help me. After all, you're one of _them_."

"Personal reasons. Doesn't concern you." He stood up and walked away, bringing the conversation to a sudden end.

XXXXXXXXXX

Christmas passed by without anyone losing a word about it, the only indication of this holiday even existing being the present I had received. So now there I was sitting in front of the still white canvas in my room, inspiration gone. Expressionism sounded good at the time, but I couldn't even decide for a color scheme, the oil paint still sealed and laid out on the bed. Finally, I dacided to open ocher. To me, depression was ocher. The viscous paint landed on a piece of cardboard box (I didn't have a palette) with a splat. I smeared it on the cardboard with a medium sized brush; it was smooth, the color itself was very well covering and deep... but still I didn't know what to paint.

I didn't want to just start without a plan either since I would have been wasting material then... ocher didn't sound so good after all. Why were there so few colors in the world anyway? In the end, it all came down to yellow, red, blue, black and white and that was it. I wanted another, a universal color, something more, a color that could depict my soul, one that could even attempt to grasp the concept of life... but such a color did not, and would never, exist, nor a word to name it. But why? Why not? How was I to illustrate my feelings or thoughts with the existing banality? I could not! It made no sense, the colors formed a cage, one that I strived to break, just like the confinements this very room formed... I screamed, threw the cardboard with the paint and the brush against the wall; it left a big smear of ocher paint on the otherwise gray surface.

I started pacing on the bed, shuddering and covering my mouth with my hand firmly. This was driving me crazy. Was I even myself anymore? Everything had seemed to be so easy before these monsters had come into my life, everything had been so full of color, full of activity, dynamic life, constantly renewing itself and presenting an innumerable amount of new ideas, but not now. Now, everything was just gray in gray, lifeless, artificial, monotonous. I let myself fall flat onto my back, the bed below me gave in a little, but not too much... it's softness was comparable to an old car tire. The ceiling above me. It was also gray. It was nothing like the sky, the sky that I had not seen for a couple of days, but to me it seemed like an eternity... I curled up on my side and started sobbing. I needed to get out. I'd die here if I couldn't.

XXXXXXXXXX

I hadn't meant to insult the Prime, this time I really hadn't. But when he had snapped at me I had just lost it and... I had known the moment the collapsible tube of yellow paint had hit his back armor and had ripped and emptied its contents all over him that this would have serious consequences. I hadn't even had an idea of why he was actually here or what he wanted, he had just come in, obviously wanting to say something, but had instead started to fuss because I had not bowed to him like manners dictated and so on. When I had responded equally it had only gotten worse.

His optics had seemed to flame with white hot rage and his voice had risen above levels I had thought him capable of. He had practically screamed at me, making me shrink back behind my blanket, what I was thinking who I was, if I even had the slightest idea what would usually be the penalty for assaulting the Prime, if I had a screw loose etc etc. I tried to hit his soft spot (in case he had one) by starting to wail softly, but he had looked right through my act (or maybe he just hadn't cared if he made me cry), had grabbed me off my bed and taken me with him. Ratchet had promptly been shoved out of the way and further on ignored when he had tried to step in and with me clutched firmly in his huge hand, Prime had stormed out of med bay to a, to me, unknown destination. Now, being stuck in the huge lift with the commander and going further down to the lower levels of the base, I was slowly starting to panic again. Where was he taking me? What was he planning? Would he hurt me? I looked up at his stern face, he didn't spare me a glance, not even when I made a sound similar to clearing my throat. I asked where he was taking me, but he didn't respond. I sighed tiredly after trying to wriggle out of his hand fruitlessly.

"Look, I'm sorry. I know what I did wrong and I won't do it again. I promise. I've learned my lesson." The lift doors opened and he stepped out. These corridors looked different than those of the other level, less familiar, darker, foreboding. A mech I didn't know was standing guard at a corner we rounded, saluting to the Prime when he passed by. I thought I heard a faint scream from somewhere down the hallway. There were numbers on the many steel doors on either side of the corridors. Finally, Optimus spoke, quietly but menacingly.

"You actually want me to believe you're sorry and that you'll improve? Only to deceive me when I'm not paying attention, right. You will learn your lesson. You can start now." With that he opened a large steel door with the number 101 neatly sprayed onto it with white paint, released me into the room and slammed it shut again. I didn't even have time to object. I stood up quietly and took in my surroundings. It was pitch black in here. No light on the ceiling, no light shining through from beneath the door... I reached out with my arms and moved forward until my palms met it. Not even my optics had enough light to illuminate even the smallest patch of it... I put my audio receptor against the door to maybe hear something from outside, but there was nothing. Not the smallest sound. I turned around. I couldn't see a thing.

"Hello?" My voice sounded a little muffled in here. Slowly I started tracing the wall with my fingertips, exploring the room with my hands alone. It was completely empty. The walls were absolutely smooth, no cracks in its surface, no dents or bumps, just cold and black perfection. I couldn't tell how high they were, at least too high for me to reach the ceiling by jumping. There was nothing I could have climbed onto, it had no corners: it was round. When I was sure I had circled it at least twice I realized I couldn't even find the door anymore, it didn't stand out from the walls at all, its seams were blending in perfectly. While I had to admit the accuracy this room had been crafted with was astounding, I also started to see what seemed to be its purpose: disorientation. Deprivation of sensory input. It was rather cold in here, too.

I started pacing with my arms around my torso: ten steps from one wall to the other. A medium sized Cybertronian probably couldn't even sit down in here. I walked back and forth until my feet started to ache and I got tired. I lost track of time completely and soon I started to get hungry. Very, very hungry. There was simply no corner to curl up in, so I opted for just sitting down with my back against the walls and my knees drawn up. The constant cold kept me from recharging. What would happen as soon as someone let me out of this dark cell again? Would I be able to pretend to be too weak to even stand up just to wriggle out of the mech's fingers to make an attempt at escape? Or would I actually _be_ as weak at that time? Would they hurt me someway if I wasn't? I was pretty sure they wouldn't let me die in this room, deprived of energy as I was becoming quickly... on its own accord, my body started to move again, rocking back and forth gently, my mind tried to settle on more comfortable thoughts. Memories of the wind caressing my skin, of the smell of flowers and wheat fields, of the open sky above me... but as much as I thought back to those happier times, my mind was always forcefully shoved back to the present when another shiver rocked my fragile limbs.

Was I allowed to hate them for this torture? Hate was bad. It was probably the worst thing in existence and yet I craved it at the moment. Hate was very bad. It made people blind to everything around them, it spun the threads which weaved their own doom- still, nothing would have been easier right now than to outright hate Optimus Prime. Ratchet I could understand, a bit at least. Although I didn't quite get why he of all people would want to help me, why _he_ behaved so very different from anyone else, I did see how it would endanger him if anyone found out of him helping me and I kind of understood his reluctance. Prime, however... he seemed to be a plain asshole, the complete opposite of the many versions of him depicted in the fictional media.

Were the Autobots the bad guys after all? Sure, the government seemed to cooperate with them, but that didn't mean much. I didn't trust politicians anyway. So how was I to know? I was denied pretty much every kind of useful information anyway. I didn't know where I was, how I would get out of here and when, what was to become of me. All I knew was why they kept me here, which obviously was to save their species from extinction and that didn't settle well with me at all. And it got even worse: by studying all that crap on etiquette, I had learned about my rights in cybertronian society which were practically nonexistent. They had nothing even remotely comparable to the basic human rights, their highest element of legislative remaining the Prime; I was fucked if my life depended on that shithead. I caught myself being amused at the thought of our roles suddenly being reversed, with me being Prime and him being my subordinate whom I could treat however I liked... I halted. Revenge. Cruelty. No. That wasn't me- or was it? I wasn't so sure of that anymore.

This everlasting silence was driving me insane, so I started to hum a tune, but it came out sounding so pitiful, so miserable I couldn't bear it and so I stopped. Time had lost its meaning, it didn't exist here. I started scratching my arm, softly at first, but becoming more furious, finally dragging my claws across my metal skin with force, drawing sparks and energon. Jerking out of my hypnosis like state I quickly put my hands to my sides. This was self- injury. Not good. I couldn't go insane here, I couldn't, couldn't, I was sure the door would open any moment now... but it didn't. I don't remember when my brain, or processor, ceased thinking altogether, my optics merely staring into the darkness before me. Nothing, there was just nothing. I wanted to cry, but I had no tears.

A few times a rather small flap in the door was opened and a little canister of energon was pushed inside and every time I slowly crawled over to it, searching for it with my shivering fingers and drinking the whole content at once. It wasn't much, barely enough to keep me from losing consciousness. Then I would always move back to the wall and curl up to wait for the next ration. There wasn't anything else. I had the faint feeling the energon came irregularly, maybe to prevent my time from being structured, but I couldn't tell... I had been reduced to a mere animal in a cage, merely vegetating, unable to form coherent thoughts... that was until one day (Was it day? Who knew?), the door opened; it was like being struck by lightning, the brightness of the hallway outside hurt my temporarily blind optics, the unbearable noise of someone, whoever it was, entering the room to pick me up making my audios ring painfully. They probably thought it was enough, that they had broken me... but something else was now forming in my mind and soul, burning itself in irreversibly. It was one single wish, a desire stronger than anything else: I wanted to live. Living meant living in freedom, everything else was death. Gray- black death. I didn't care about the cost anymore. I would be free, one way or another.

**Please review... I need some motivation... **


	7. Rain

**The Dark Horizon**

**Chapter 7: Rain**

I slowly started to see again, I could only distinguish light and dark, but it was getting better by the second. Who the hell was carrying me? He was probably a little taller than Ratchet, slimmer though, but it wasn't anyone I knew, that was for sure. After a while I could spot his dark silver and black armor, a Porsche logo on his chest... but who was it? I groaned and moved a little in his hands. Where was he taking me? My optics felt like they were on fire, my voice capacitor felt rough, but still I tried to speak.

"Ngh... where-"

"Quiet. You've got an appointment." I closed my optics from the bright light around me, trying to sit up in the mech's hands, but he pushed me back down again. It took a while until he rapped on another unfamiliar door. Someone from inside said 'Enter'. I knew that voice. I knew it and it made me shiver in discomfort. The door opened and I was released onto the floor, the door closed again. I curled my fingers, having fallen onto my hands and knees, I felt the carpeting beneath me... wait, carpeting? What for? Dark blue, almost black, soft carpeting. I looked up, only to be confronted with the Autobot commander, who was sitting behind the largest desk I had ever seen, his fingers laced and his elbows braced on the desk. I sat back on my haunches slowly, he seemed to be seizing me up with his optics. Was he expecting me to say something? And then I got the idea. Staying on my knees, I leaned forward slightly, bowing my head to him.

"Good girl." He said quietly, standing up from his large chair and striding over to me. "Very good. Have we had enough?" I didn't look up, instead I just nodded softly. A large finger moved beneath my chin to push my face up so I had to face the imposing mech, who had knelt down beside me. How somebody his size could move so soundlessly was a mystery to me. "Will you be good now or do you want to go back to room 101?" I shivered at the prospect of being imprisoned in that dark room again. The finger started stroking the underside of my jaw gently. To me, the touch was repulsive, no matter how delicate he tried to make it.

"I... I'll be good."

"I'll be good _what_."

"Sir." He smiled, it made me shiver. There was something cruel about his smile, something lecherous. He stood back up and went to sit at his desk again, I stood up cautiously.

"Who gave those supplies to you." Prime said marginally while studying a datapad.

"What 'supplies' do you mean...sir?" He shot me a sharp look over the edge of the datapad, as if he wanted to say 'don't fuck with me'.

"Answer me, femme." I looked down at my hands. Ratchet would probably be in trouble if I told. On the other hand, I wondered why he was asking me anyway since Ratchet was the only logical choice; after all, there actually wasn't really anyone beside him (except Prime, of course) I had much contact with, so... but while a few days ago I would have very willingly made the medic look bad in front of his superior, I now found I didn't really want to cause him any trouble. What the hell was wrong with me? Was I growing to like that creep?

"I... don't know. One morning, it was just there. I don't know where it came from."

"Alpha." He warned. I looked back up at him. He had put the datapad aside and was now watching me intently, metallic brows furrowed. I started chewing my bottom lip, not knowing what to say, almost biting myself when he slammed his fist onto the desk loudly. "Answer me! Who was it?"

"I... it was... I guess-"

"SAY IT!"

"It... um... Ratchet?" There. I had said it. It made me feel bad, but what was I supposed to do? He leaned back in his huge chair, relaxing noticeably.

"That wasn't so hard, now was it?" His attention turned back to the datapad, his optics analyzing the (most likely cybertronian) script quickly. "The paint will be confiscated until further notice. Maybe, if you behave, you can have it back. Prowl!" The mech who had brought me here opened the door from the outside, stepping into the room and bowing his head to his Prime. So that was Prowl? I had imagined him to look... different. Optimus motioned towards me with his head, the lights on the ceiling reflecting on his brilliantly polished blue helmet. "Take her back to med bay."

"Yes, sir." Prowl moved to pick me up and retreated through the door, but the commander spoke up again before he had exited completely.

"And Alpha. I case you want to pull a stunt like that again let yourself be told that there are much worse punishments waiting for you than room 101."

XXXXXXXXXX

I didn't struggle at all while Prowl brought me back to med bay, at least not until a good opportunity was at hand, which gave me the benefit of not being held too tightly and that was a mistake on Prowl's side. The opportunity to escape appeared in the shape of a human soldier patrolling a hallway we passed, armed with a machine gun and rounding a corner behind us. A magnet strip card was fastened to his belt; probably some sort of key. My spark' s pace was quickening rapidly, but Prowl didn't seem to suspect anything. Good.

Moving quickly, I wriggled out of his grasp, landed on the floor and ran, leaving a stunned Autobot behind. Before he could even react and come after me, I had already rounded the corner where the soldier had disappeared and jumped to tackle the man. He let out a surprised yelp and hit the ground hard, receiving a hard blow to the back of his head when he tried to struggle and throw me off. But now I had the problem of the black and silver Autobot thundering towards me. What to do, what do do... I grabbed the machine gun the soldier had been carrying, losing precious time while fiddling with the strap which had been holding the gun to his shoulder. I tried to fire it at Prowl, but it didn't work. Was it even loaded? It should have been. I had no experience in the handling of guns at all, so I didn't know... wait, there had to be some kind of lock... a little black button on the side of it. I pressed it and tried again to fire- and it worked. The kickback was so hard it almost knocked me over, but I remained on my feet, firing multiple rounds at Prowl's face. He howled in pain, his hands flew up to cover his optics; obviously I had blinded him. With him now merely stumbling towards me, I had enough time to steal the magnetic card off of the soldier's belt and run.

I wasn't so sure if using the elevator was such a good idea and so I ran back to where I had seen a human sized stairway before. I tried to rip open the door of steel and bulletproof glass, but the broad handle didn't budge, only when I inserted the magnetic card into a slot beside the door could it be opened. I hurried up the stairs, taking three or four steps at a time, the machine gun clasped firmly in my hands. I had shot at someone. I had actually hurt someone. What about the soldier? If I had wounded him fatally, if he died- no, no, I had to stop that right now. I needed to get out of here, as quickly as possible. No alarms had been triggered off yet, they probably didn't know I was trying to escape right now. After many many many levels, the staircase ended, so I exited through the door at the top. I entered a vacated locker room and, glad not to have encountered anyone, grabbed an abandoned black military jacket and ran on, but stopped abruptly.

There was a tabular glass case with keys hanging on hooks inside, car keys, close to the next door. I actually didn't expect the magnetic card to work at its lock, but surprisingly, it did. Without further ado, I grabbed a gray GMC key and ran out, forgetting the card in the lock. I came out in the hangar where I had first arrived. I was on a raised grating platform in front of a human sized in- built two story tall set of rooms. From here I could see the multiple vehicles below, the huge gate through which the sunlight was illuminating the front part of the hangar- and the soldiers in front of it. I ducked, but there was no cover up here. I needed to get down to ground level. I pressed the release mechanism on the key and seeing the flashers of a rather nearby black truck light up, I made my way over to it silently just when the alarms started to sound.

There was sudden agitation in the hangar and I did have some trouble hiding behind trucks, quad bikes and motorcycles to avoid the soldiers suddenly running about. I managed to open the now open truck's driver's door quietly and crawl inside, hiding behind the steering wheel and putting the machine gun down on the passenger seat while plugging the key into the ignition lock. I had only just started my driving lessons not long before the incident at my school, so I wasn't really a good driver yet but I did know the basics. At least the truck was an automatic- no danger of killing the engine. I discreetly put my foot down on the brake before turning the key. The motor hummed to life and I released the brake to slowly pull out of the space between two other trucks. I heard soldiers shouting and kicked the accelerator to the metal, making the car lurch forward, knocking over a motorcycle in the progress. But as I now was speeding towards the exit, the soldiers tried to block it, aiming their guns at me. I honked, but they didn't move out of the way. I wouldn't stop. If they didn't move, I'd run them over. They started shooting, I ducked behind the steering wheel. I could barely see through the windshield anymore, at the time I reached the lowering gate the front of the car was probably laced with holes. The soldiers had jumped out of the way in the last possible moment, now shooting at the car from the back. Something impacted with the rear portion of the truck, making it screech to the left a little, but I caught it quickly (thank god there was nothing in my way anymore) and sped on. The gunshots stopped. Another engine howled behind me and a quick look into the half- intact rear mirror told me it was Jazz chasing after me, followed by a cloud of dust, the silver sports car quickly closing in and pulling up beside me.

"Stop right now, femme!" He shouted, but I wouldn't even think of listening to him. His driver's door opened and started to transform, but I stopped the process by slamming the truck's side against the smaller Autobot. He yelped, but returned to the truck's side quickly. "STOP!" I hit him again and again, still I couldn't shake him off. We were nearing the barbed wire fence surrounding the whole area, but the soldiers at the gate didn't shoot, probably because they didn't want to hit Jazz. The splinters of the gate flew through the air as I tore through it, Jazz still hard on my heels. As I was nearing top speed, he pulled past and in front of me by a few hundred meters and transformed, aiming his own gun at me. I needed to avoid him at all cost. The ground beside the dust road was rather uneven but, considering I was driving an all- terrain truck and he was a sports car, I saw my advantage, stepped onto the brakes and after reducing my speed severely, I pulled off the road. Jazz, obviously surprised, transformed hastily and tried to chase after me again- tried. The stones and bumps of the dusty ground were getting to his low carriage, and soon he was stuck and forced to transform and try to run after me in bipedal mode, but I left him behind quickly. He shot the ground in front of me a few times so small craters were created, probably in the hope of me driving into them and crashing, but I avoided them narrowly by drawing aside quickly. My head hit the truck's roof yet again when the vehicle jumped over another bump, but I ignored it euphorically.

I had made it! Made it out of the base! Wind was rushing through the damaged windshield, I could see the sky above me and mountains in front of me... I needed to go into hiding somewhere. Get rid of the car. Change the direction of my escape quickly, mislead the Autobots. A city. That would be perfect. Something labyrinthine where I could hide... I saw cars glinting in the distance and changed my course to the right. Civilization was it. But I would have to wait until nightfall so I could move undetected by the population...

XXXXXXXXXX

By the time it got dark I had found a patch of green where I hid the truck behind some large bushes, but not before searching it for useful things; I did find a emergency canister of gas, a flashlight and some small set of tools (two screwdrivers, universal pliers and a wrench) in the trunk. Of course the Autobots and their human allies had already started searching for me, but they obviously hadn't expected for me to stay off road most of the time, so thankfully, they hadn't spotted me yet, at least I hoped so. It was getting dark and cloudy quickly and I twitched when a bang was heard nearby, but the following light show in the sky suggested that it must have been close to New Year and people just wanted to start celebrating early. I walked along the road quietly, dressed in the stolen jacket, the gun neatly hidden underneath. It felt great to smell the fresh air again, to hear the faint rumble of thunder... avoiding the light cones beneath the street lights, I kept looking for a phone booth. I reached some kind of shopping district, which was empty of people save for two or three fast food restaurants. I could smell the burgers and fries, although I kept a few hundred feet away. What was that over there? A pay phone. In the shadows of a supermarket, old and smeared with graffiti, but it would do. I didn't have any change so I was forced to make a collect call in the hope that my friend Chelsea would accept it. When I was asked to say my name, I used only my initials to not make it too freaking obvious to anyone listening in who exactly was calling. After all, I was pretty sure this phone wasn't particularly safe. After a few times of ringing, Chelsea picked up.

"Hello?"

"Chelsea?" I fiddled with the cable attached to the handset nervously. "It's me, Joey." Silence. Then she practically shouted into the phone in excitement.

"Joelle? Is that really you? Where the hell have you been? Last I saw you was before our school went kaboom and-"

"Listen, Chelsea. I'm in trouble. And if I say I'm in trouble I mean really fucking big trouble. I need your help."

"I... yeah okay, what do you need? Where are you? What's going on?"

"I know I'm asking a lot of you, but... could you probably pick me up?"

"Well, where are you?" I told her my location and that she'd better hurry. She fussed a little over me being in a whole different state and all, but she promised to make it there as fast as possible. Still, I knew she wouldn't be able to be here within the next hours so I decided I had to go and find a place to hide until then. I found a relatively save spot between two large and rusty dumpsters. A rat scurried away when I got close, but other than that, the spot was empty. I sat down in the shadows, pulling the jacket closer to myself. It was a little too small for me and a look at the label earlier had revealed it was extra large. Shit. I must have grown already.

A drop of rain hit my cheek, then another on my leg. I looked up into the sky. No stars were visible, but huge amounts of clouds, intent on pouring their much needed contents all over the dry landscape. My stomach hurt. I had no energon; all I had was the gas in the canister. I wasn't so sure if I should try and drink it, after all who knew that stuff wouldn't poison me? Still... I was hungry. The last time I had refueled had been in the cell and it hadn't been a lot. Merely a few sips. I was hit by the rain more frequently now, but I didn't bother looking for shelter, enjoying the feeling of water on my body. I opened the canister and sniffed at it's closure, it smelled like ordinary gas. Tentatively, I tried a sip- only to spit it out immediately. It tasted terrible, just terrible. Offended by the disgusting aroma still lingering in my mouth, I closed the plastic vessel again and shoved it aside. Gas wasn't an option, then. Well, I could still try diesel, or oil or ethanol... but I would certainly not get energon anywhere. I didn't even know of what exactly that stuff consisted, only that it tasted good and made me full.

I leaned my back against the dirty wall behind me. I couldn't wait until Chelsea showed up. It would be nice to see a familiar human face again, although my own looks would probably be freaking her out quite a bit. I kinda felt bad for calling her; I didn't want to drag her into this story, I didn't want to cause her any trouble. But I wouldn't stay with her anyway. I'd ask her to take me back to our city, the city where I had grown up and which I knew inside out, where it would be relatively easy to hide and not be found by the Autobots... I could hide in the abandoned warehouse, near the highway in the old industrial district. I trusted Chelsea. I had known her for almost my entire life and she was one of my closest friends. If she had called me and asked for help, I wouldn't have hesitated to do anything in my might to comply with her wish.

There wasn't much I could do until she showed up though, and so I waited. Hours passed. I crouched behind the dumpster when a helicopter flew overhead, but the spotlight didn't catch me by a long shot and so I thought of myself as being safe for the moment. I couldn't recharge. Although the temperatures didn't drop as low as to resemble those in my cell, it still was a little cold. But the cold was not the reason I didn't find any rest. The scratches I had inflicted upon myself ached, I held my arm close to my chest, but the burning sensation didn't subside in the slightest. I spent my time with counting the few cars that were passing by. This was a relatively small town, so the traffic was rather sparse; throughout the whole night, I counted a total of 32 cars. Dawn was slowly nipping at the horizon and a thin coat of rime covered my body where the rain couldn't wash it away. I brushed it off carefully. Then, a familiar car pulled onto the parking lot and a girl with straight black hair stepped out. She looked around somewhat cluelessly only to find out there was no one there. It was still rather dark outside, she couldn't see me, not even when I stepped out of my shelter. Of course I remained in the shadows at first. She called my name.

"Here." I said quietly. Chelsea turned into my direction, eyes squinting.

"Joelle?" I hesitated to reveal myself completely. How would she react?

"Chelsea. I'm glad you came. You can't imagine what I went through."

"What... what happened? Your voice sounds so strange. Are you sick or something?"

"I..." I looked at my childhood friend. She looked a little confused and very worried. "You gotta promise you won't freak out now. You must know I'm still the same person, even if I don't look the same anymore. Okay? Please promise me."

"Okay, okay, I promise. Come. Let me see you. How bad can it be?" I vented a huge amount of cold morning air before stepping out into the light. I should have known she would react a little more hysterical than she'd let on.

"HOLY SHIT! WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?" She jumped back behind her car's silver hood. I slowly continued towards her over the wet pavement. It had been raining cats and dogs for the last hours, now was no exception. I raised my hands in a reassuring gesture.

"Please... I... please don't be afraid. Please. I need your help, Chelsea. They'll find me if you don't help me. They mustn't find me. Please..."

"I don't believe you're... how am I supposed to know you're the one you're pretending to be? Prove it. Prove you're really Joelle, my friend Joelle." I sighed, lowering my arms. What was there only the two of us knew? I thought back to what we had experienced together in the past. My face lit up. I remembered a time when she had been staying over at my place and we had wanted to make some chocolate pudding. It all had ended in a disaster when she'd misjudged the speed descriptions on my mom's mixer and the pudding had been sloshed all over the kitchen walls.

"Daaw shit, moving the lever to the front means 'extra fast'? How retarded is that? Remember that one?" Her jaw dropped. Slowly, very slowly, she left the safety of her car's side and walked towards me. I remembered her to be a little taller than me, now she was noticeably shorter. She stopped in front of me, staring up into my face. The rain had long since made her black strands drip onto her soaked gray jacket. Her hand lifted to touch my jaw tentatively. She flinched at the feeling of metal beneath her fingers. Tears were welling up in her dark brown eyes.

"Oh my god. It's really you. Oh my god, what the fuck happened to you?"

"I'd... rather explain this in the car. I don't want to be seen out in the open."

"Okay. Okay uh... where are we going?"

"Home."

XXXXXXXXXX

"So let me get this straight." Chelsea said, taking another sip of her energy drink. "You've been kidnapped by a race of almost extinct alien robots because they want you to have babies and you're an alien yourself and now you've escaped and are on the run from them."

"Yeah that's kinda it." I was sitting on the backseat of her car, mostly obscured from the views of the people in the other cars on the highway through the tinted windows. I was wearing Chelsea's sunglasses and a dark brown baseball cap. We had already driven the biggest part of the distance to our hometown, the landscape was already looking more familiar, forests and lakes starting to border the highway instead of desert. We had spent the past hours talking, with her telling me about how everything back home had been in such a chaos, how they had all been so worried, how badly my parents were taking it and with me telling her about my imprisonment, the surgery, the escape. She had seemed to have trouble fighting back the tears at one point or another, but by now she was relatively recomposed.

"I still can't believe this is real."

"You're not alone there."

"So what are you going to do? I mean, is there some way to change you back or something?" I sighed, looking out of the window.

"I fear I won't ever be able to just live a normal life again. Or to be human again. As to what I'm gonna do, I'm not so sure myself. I think I'll try and hide out in the city, but it could become more difficult when I get bigger, which I'm pretty sure I will."

"Well, maybe you could, you know, stay with me and my mom, I don't think she'd mind." I shook my head vehemently.

"No way. I don't want to endanger you. I don't know what the Autobots will do to you if they find me at your place. No. I'm better off alone."

"And" she looked at me through the rear view mirror. "if you ask the police for help? I mean, maybe they could help you."

"I don't think the police or the government could do anything to help me. Technically, I'm an illegal immigrant. Besides, with the military aid the Autobots seem to be providing I doubt they will risk their good diplomatic relations just to protect someone who's not even a member of their species. They'd probably hand me over as soon as they see me."

"But you can't just live on the streets. What will you eat... or... do you even eat?"

"I... was given energon while I was back at their base. It's some kind of alien fuel, but I certainly wouldn't be getting it anywhere on this planet other than from the Autobots, so... I don't know what I'll 'eat', no. Certainly not donuts." She drove on in silence for a while. I wondered what she was thinking. What would I have thought if something like that would have happened to one of my friends? I should never find out. A huge black GMC pickup truck pulled up beside us. I shrank down into the backseat. This couldn't mean anything good. The rain was still pouring down on the highway.

"Um, Chelsea?"

"Yes?" I pulled the collar of my jacket up on either side of my face to hide myself a little more.

"Please don't panic,but... I don't think that's an ordinary truck there beside us." She looked to the left, where the black topkick refused to pull further ahead or fall back, remaining in it's place.

"Oh my god, you think it's one of them?"

"I'm pretty sure it is."

"Oh shit. What am I supposed to do?"

"Act normal. Don't panic. Maybe he doesn't even know I'm in here." All warning I received was Chelsea's horrified shriek before the black truck beside us rammed the side of our smaller car violently, driving it against the guardrail to our right. Chelsea lost it and pressed the pedal to the metal, but the truck easily kept up with us.

"OhmygodohmygodOHMYGOOOD!" She made a sharp right turn to catch the next exit, almost overturning the car. I looked out of the rear window, only to see the black truck drifting into a u- turn and racing after us. It was followed by a few army vehicles. When I turned back to look out of the front windows, I could only catch a small glimpse of a red car honking and speeding towards us with screeching brakes, but it was too late to do anything. Everything went so fast. It smashed into the driver's door brutally, sending the car spinning out of control, coming to a sudden and shuddering stop when it crashed against something else. Subconsciously, I had curled up in a protective ball on the backseat, my safety belt holding me in place and preventing me from being catapulted from side to side too extremely.

When my hands let go of my head, what I saw made me cry out in horror. Chelsea's lifeless face staring back at me, upside down, neck bent over the back of her seat, mouth wide open, pure terror written into the expression she had carried in the last second of her life, her blood covered head almost severed from her body, which had been crushed by the other car along with the biggest part of our car's front, only just attached by a few sinews... I screamed. I thrashed. I tried to open the seat belt, but my hands were too clumsy in my panicked state. Finally, I managed to get it off and I hurriedly scrambled out of the broken side window and into the pouring rain, my jacket getting caught in the shards. I wriggled out of it and ran, screaming. People in cars gasped and screamed as they saw me, but I didn't care. I didn't look back. I just wanted to get away.

The highway was crossing an old residential area with run- down houses. I ran across the road junction, jumping and climbing over wedged in cars, stumbling over the guardrail and almost landing on my face, but always running on and on. I didn't know if someone was following me, I just wanted to get away. Chelsea. She was dead because of me. She was dead! Oh god. I felt sick. The rain was obscuring my view, everything blurred, the noise all around me was ear- shattering. Suddenly the world tumbled around me, I was ripped off my feet, something had hit me and tangled with my limbs, a net, wrapped around me, I couldn't stand up, then I saw Ironhide in his bipedal form, kneeling down with a syringe in his hand, I felt it pierce my neck, I screamed, I wanted to struggle, but I couldn't, he was holding me down. And then, everything went black.

**Wow, that went fast. Anyway, please review.**


	8. Collapse

**The Dark Horizon**

**Chapter 8: Collapse**

The far away floor was the first thing I saw when I came to. Incredible, sterile brightness, like multiple spotlights were directed at me. My whole body was aching, but the pain was worst in my legs. I groaned. Was I... upside down? And hanging from the ceiling? I tried to raise my head to look at my body, but I found myself being too weak to do so, slumping back down into my vertical position. My processor felt numb. What had happened? How had I gotten here- and then it hit me like a ton of bricks.

The escape. Chelsea. Chelsea was... she was... I felt like I should have been screaming and sobbing at her loss, but all I felt was numbness. White, muffled numbness. Still... it was my fault. It was all my fucking fault. Why did I have to drag her into this? Why couldn't I have tried it on my own? WHY! I clenched my optics shut. It should have been me in her place. She had had nothing to do with this. She had been innocent. And now all that remained of her was a bloody mess. Silently, I apologized to her. To her, to her mother, her father, all our friends... I really should have died in her place. I shouldn't even have contacted her, should have remained in the shadows for the rest of my time, I should have starved to death in some abandoned junkyard where I belonged. I should have shot myself... no. I wouldn't have done that. No matter how bad things got, I'd never, never ever kill myself. I couldn't do that. No. Somehow I'd get out, on my own, without any help, that I owed to Chelsea and to myself... and to my mother, whom I had never known, but who seemed to have done so much just to assure I didn't get into the situation I had stupidly brought upon myself now.

"I hope you're proud of yourself, Alpha." My optics shot open immediately when I heard that accursed voice. No. I didn't want to face him. Anyone but _him_. "One civilian dead, two others heavily injured, one soldier paralyzed from the neck down, not to mention the blinding of my second in command. All because you've thought it would be a good idea to make a little trip. Are you happy now?" Optimus had come to stand in front of me, his face on a level with mine, uncomfortably close, expression fierce. I didn't want to look at him, so I turned my head away. He didn't stop talking with that venomously low voice though, circling me slowly in the white tiled room. "You've done something _incredibly_ dumb, Alpha. Didn't I warn you? Didn't I _tell _you not to try anything stupid?" I wanted to cover my face with my hands, but they were bound behind my back. My vents choked a bit, my neck bending backwards briefly before returning to its previous position.

"Did you actually believe you could get away, hm?" The huge Autobot leaned in close, his nose was almost touching mine, I flinched. "You do remember what I told you before you left my office? You really must be determined to see how bad it can get, isn't that so. You really want to know how far you can go here, did I get that right." Why couldn't he just leave me alone? Why couldn't just everyone leave me alone? My body was now trembling with small sobs, but now, I didn't want him to see me cry. I didn't want to grant him that satisfaction, but it was hard not to because actually, he was right. I _had_ done something very stupid. I had tried to run without a real plan and others had paid the price for that. He, that monster, that arrogant, tyrannical bastard was right.

"Know that this is only to your best, Alpha. You need to learn your place." With that he walked over to the next wall and pulled a switch on a command console, triggering off a mechanism that let the fixture I was dangling from move back. I heard the metallic ring of chains above me. I didn't have the strength to move much, so I couldn't look what exactly was happening. I groaned, trying to wriggle a little and make the pain in my legs go away, but the movement only helped to make it worse. A big basin appeared below my head, filled with water... what, did he want to drown me? How did he want to do that? Cybertronians didn't breathe. Still, I closed my vents to prevent my systems from being flooded in case he lowered me into the water. And lower me he did.

I hit the surface face first, which hurt quite a bit considering I had fallen from the height of several meters. My vents snapped open on their own accord as I drew in a pained gasp. The salty water was freezing cold, my body jerked in shock. When I had almost gotten used to the terrible cold, I suddenly was in pain, acute pain. It was like being stung with thick and sharp needles all over my body, penetrating my frame altogether, unforgiving agony. A scream was ripped from my vocalizer, I didn't feel the bubbles of the remaining air in my systems rise up to the surface alongside my body, only the pain... then it stopped. My body was still twitching in the aftermath, though. I was pulled out of the water again, high up. I coughed heavily, gasping for air and groaning in between the coughs. Prime was still standing there with his hand on one of the multiple switches and control knobs, frowning at me. He turned to me again as soon as I had been dragged up to his height again, but stayed close to the console.

"That was only low voltage. I think you can guess it will be less comfortable in case I turn it up a little. Now, Alpha." He sounded almost friendly, his ice blue optics softening. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way."

"I'd... prefer... easy." I practically coughed the words out.

"Silence. You'll only speak when you're told to do so. What I want to know is: when you get out of this room, will you try to escape again?" I shook my head.

"No. No, I promise. I won't- AAH!" I fell down into the water again and the electricity cursed through me only milliseconds later. I screamed into the cold fluid in agony. Every part in my body felt like it was on fire. I felt like screaming and crying and begging for him to stop when I was pulled out of the basin again, desperately trying to clear my airways as short bolts of electricity still twitched over me.

"Let's try this again. Will you try to escape again?" He asked a second time. I hesitated to answer at first. He stared at me, raising his eyebrows. I coughed.

"I ...promise I won't do it again. Please, I-" Splash!

XXXXXXXXXX

"I will ask you one more time, femme: will you try to run away again? Answer me!" The cold water was dripping off my torso, my legs felt numb. I was sobbing openly now. I didn't know what he wanted to hear. During the past hours, I had promised and sworn multiple times I'd behave from now on, that I wouldn't run again, that I'd do anything, anything if he just stopped. But every time I had said I wouldn't do it again, he'd plunged me into the ice cold water again, each time raising the level of electricity surging through my frame. His huge finger stroked my cheek gently when I closed my optics, wailing. "I just want to hear the truth, Alpha. You can make it stop right now if you only tell me the truth."

"I..." What was the truth? If I ran again, if I was caught again, I didn't even want to imagine the punishment waiting for me. Still, would I run again? Was freedom opposed to the excruciating pain in case I didn't make it worth it? Was the chance of living in endangered freedom worth more than the prospect of a life in captivity with my only purpose being reproduction? Even after what had happened? Even after me being responsible for my friend's death? Yes. Yes, it definitely was. "I... will run away again. I will always try to escape. I'll never... stop trying." My voice was weak now, almost inaudible, but still echoing in the big and nearly empty room. I prepared myself for smashing into the water's surface again, to be short- circuited again, I waited for the agony, optics clenched shut. But it didn't come. Instead, I felt his hands on my body, holding me and releasing my shackles. The room was spinning around me when I left my upside down vertical position for the first time in hours to fall into his open palm. I shuddered at the contact, but I felt much too weak to do anything about it.

"At least now you meant it." He said quietly. My arms and legs hurt when I brought them to my front, curling up in a ball slowly. As the result of an obviously silent command from the Prime, the door at the far end of the room opened and a slim silver bot stepped in; I didn't really want to look who exactly it was. I didn't care. "Sideswipe. Escort her to her temporary accommodation. Primus have mercy on you if you don't watch out and let her escape."

I let the smaller mech take me from the Prime's hands and carry me away. I didn't move, I didn't complain. I just lay there in his firm hold, panting as the lights overhead passed by. I didn't have the energy to wonder why Optimus had been so eager to hear that I would try and run from him again, I felt too weak to even look where I was being brought.

XXXXXXXXXX

Sideswipe had put me down on the floor at the center of the cell. I didn't even bother moving away from there at first, just lying there face down on the cold and smooth surface and trying to recover from the torture, at least a little. After a while, I couldn't shake the feeling though that I was being watched and so I slowly sat up, not without wincing in pain. I looked around tiredly. The cell was one of many at the right side of a long hallway ending in a dead end. It looked cubical, maybe thirty or forty feet long and equally broad and high. The walls were made of both incredibly thick steel bars and... something else, translucent and blurry, between them. It gave me the slight feeling to better not touch the bars. There was some kind of bench at one side of my spacious prison, other than that it was empty. I felt cold, my body still hadn't dried.

Looking through the bars and into the cells next to me, I noticed some of them were occupied by bots of different shapes and sizes, including the one to my left. There, a completely black bot was sitting on his bench, arms resting on his drawn up knees, orange optics watching me intently. I could clearly see a white Decepticon insignia on his upper arm. Thick shackles had been fastened to his wrists and ankles. Our optics met. I gulped. I knew he couldn't have reached me through the bars, not even if he had not been enchained, still I found myself crawling backwards and away from him slowly. He didn't move from his spot on the bench. Someone passed the cells. I didn't know who it was, didn't recognize the pattern of green and orange armor. I looked over to him, but he didn't even notice me, instead just continuing with patrolling the corridor silently. My attention wandered to the bench in my own cell quickly. Maybe it wasn't so cold up there... I tried to stand up, but my legs gave out beneath my weight. I crawled over to the single piece of securely attached furniture with the aim of probably pulling myself up with my arms and somehow climbing up on top of it, but as there was little to no strength left in me, this proved much harder than I had thought and I had to give up after a while.

"Didn't think I'd ever see a functioning femme again." I turned, sitting next to the bench, one arm still clinging to it's scratched side. The Decepticon had spoken, his voice had sounded raspy and a little fractured. I didn't dare to answer, merely staring at the big black robot. "You look pretty young. What are you doing here?" When he still got no answer, he snickered quietly and showed off the shackles on his wrists. "You don't have to worry. I couldn't harm you if I wanted to." I released the bench from my grip and looked down at my lap.

"Who are you?" I finally said, very quietly but clearly. I heard him shift.

"Overcast is the name. Scientist and, as you can probably see, Decepticon. And proud of it."

"Yes, I... I can see that. Did the Autobots capture you?" He nodded, face glum.

"Yah, five days ago when I tried to steal supplies at some human smelting works. Though I don't think I'll be staying here for much longer." He looked at the floor in front of him sullenly. "I fear I'll meet my maker sooner than I assumed after all."

"You think they'll kill you?" He didn't answer immediately, instead he waited until the guard, who was passing our cells for a second time, had moved further away again.

"Oh I'm pretty sure they will. I'm not as important as to be used as a bargaining chip and it would be plainly stupid of them to let me go or keep me here longer than necessary. I'd probably do the same." Overcast turned back to me, a brief but sad smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. "I still don't know why you're here. Where did you even come from? I thought there was not a single femme left."

"If _I_ only knew where I came from." I frowned. There was a real, living Decepticon only one cell further from me, the worst he could do to me was ignore me and it looked like he was willing to talk. Now could be the opportunity to get some answers on this whole mess. "Say, you're a Decepticon. Can you tell me... are the roles reversed in real life? Are the Autobots the bad guys and the Decepticons the good guys?" He laughed. What was so funny about that?

"Now that would be too easy, wouldn't it? I'll tell you something, little femme: to me, the Decepticons are the good guys. To an Autobot, the Autobots are. You see? It all depends on one's point of view."

"Let's see it from _my_ point of view." I said maybe a little too nonchalantly.

"I don't know. I guess you'll have to find that out on your own."

He talked on and on and on for the next hours, about random things. About how he had come to earth, how he'd met up with a friend of his, how he had been captured and so on, throwing in tidbits of little anecdotes from times way before my birth arbitrarily or asking questions. It looked like he was very fond of telling little horror stories about the Autobots, too, making clear how he despised them, how he had enjoyed it every time he'd been able to tear apart one of those 'stinking fraggers'. I wasn't so sure as to why he was even talking to me so enthusiastically, maybe he was just bored, maybe it comforted him, who knew. I didn't really know what to think of him. He definitely seemed interested in the circumstances leading to my imprisonment here, but still there was something creepy about him.

When he suddenly shut up, I looked up from my slouched posture to look what had stopped the never ending flow of words so abruptly. Two bots were nearing our cells, the guard who had been patrolling here all the time along with a very familiar, lime green medic. The door to my cell was opened and Ratchet stepped inside, the other bot staying outside but keeping an optic on the medic. A loud banging noise, overlaid with a distinct buzzing made me twitch. The Decepticon had jumped off his bench and was banging his fists against the bars between our cells aggressively, his face wearing an angry scowl. The blurry stuff between the bars flashed every time he hit it, but it didn't give in in the slightest.

"You! Medic! You fragging bastard! Remember me? I know who you are! You're that sick piece of junk! I know what you did at Oxius X! You-"

"SHUT UP DECEPTICON!" Ratchet yelled. The guard drew his cannon and moved to open the black bot's cell door, but Overcast reacted to it by lifting his hands over his head and sitting down again, glaring daggers at the medic in my cell and cursing under his breath. I wondered what history the two of them had. Ratchet had now chosen to ignore the other bot further on and instead grant me some attention. I looked up at him. He appeared to be very serious, tired, a little angry perhaps. I didn't fight him when he picked me up and lifted me onto the bench, kneeling down in front of it. I had expected him to be mad at me for running away, but as he was scanning my body for serious injuries, it was almost as if I could feel the air around him being angry and disappointed. I know that sounds stupid, but it certainly felt like it. The assumption about his emotions toward me were confirmed when he started whispering to me, taking a closer look at my injured arm.

"I had really thought you were cleverer than that." He said, not once casting a single look at my face. "That was stupid, Alpha. Really stupid. You've ruined everything." Ratchet sprayed a blue liquid onto the dried up wound, it felt cold but it didn't hurt. I pulled my knees up to my chest. "Do you have any idea how hard it now will be for you to get away? How Prime will have you guarded?"

"Why would you care. You're not the one they'll try to rape and impregnate." I said, not bothering with whispering. He exhaled air sharply.

"I'll give you some instant energizer, along with a light soporific." He plainly ignored my statement, all business now. "You need some rest after all that agitation." The armor on his right lower arm shifted to reveal an extending pistol- like syringe. He loaded it with a small and clear vial and carefully inserted the needle into a little opening above my right hip. It hurt a bit, but at least it didn't take long. I felt like I had somehow offended the medic when he stood up without further remarks and left. What was up with that dumbass? When he, along with the guard, was out of sight, Overcast said something, but I didn't hear him anymore, drifting off into recharge.

XXXXXXXXXX

I woke to the sound of screeching metal and groaning. Lifting my head ever so slightly, I saw the black Decepticon being dragged back into his cell by Ironhide and Jolt, hanging limply from the two Autobot's arms. He looked pretty beat up, his armor was dented and he was leaking energon from multiple cuts and scuffs all over his body. They just left him on the floor and cast me but a small side glance before slamming his cell door shut and taking their leave. I sat up slowly, rubbing my optics and yawning. I had really needed the recharge. There was a bottle (one of Ratchet's baby bottles) of energon not far away from me on my bench, but although I was hungry, I didn't feel like going and getting it right now.

Overcast groaned, I looked over to him. He was slowly starting to move, propping himself up on his arms weakly. I watched silently. He shuddered, doubtlessly in pain, crawled over to the bench and dragged himself up to sit on it. His head fell back into his neck and he panted, optics closed and face scrunched up in distress. Somehow, I felt sorry for him. Strange, considering he was probably a ruthless killer just like the rest of them. But right now the ruthless killer looked pretty helpless. Then he suddenly toppled over, almost falling off the bench, and emptied his fuel tanks onto the floor, at least what little was left in them. He kept hacking and twitching violently for a while before slumping down on the bench again.

I slowly skittered back on my bench so I could lean my back against the wall. For a while, the Decepticon remained silent and unmoving, maybe he was recharging or had lost consciousness, I couldn't tell. However, at one point or another he would stir, moan in pain or even whimper. Meanwhile, I had emptied the bottle. Other than the black mech's occasional moans, there wasn't much going on in the small jail. I had time to think. Time to grief.

Chelsea was dead. It was still hard to fully realize that. I wasn't even sure how exactly it had happened, it had all gone too fast and I had been too panicked to really analyze the situation afterward. I doubted the car that had hit us had been an Autobot. But I just couldn't be sure. I couldn't be sure of anything anymore. There was this numbness again, I covered my head with my hands in desperation. I had known her for so long. We had done so much together, years of laughing, crying, of simply friendly companionship. We had understood each other without words, known each other inside out. I had destroyed a beloved, young, innocent and ambitious life. I would never be able to forgive myself. Never. I wanted to scream once again, scream until my voice gave out, but I knew that wouldn't have changed anything. What was done could not be undone. There was no turning back , there was only regret, eating away at me. Nothing would ever be the same again. I would never be the same again. I had done things I hadn't thought myself capable of, terrible things, dangerous things. Things had been done to me. I curled up on my side. I wanted to fall asleep and never wake up again, just shut the whole world out to find peace.

"Oooh... fragging Autobots..." Overcast groaned, shifting to sit again. I looked over to him. He looked over to me. One of his optics was cracked, dark and blind, his dented face was smeared with energon. He smiled at me, there were big gaps between his metallic teeth. All in all, he was a horrible sight right now. "Hey there. Lookin' gorgeous, darlin'." Had he suffered a concussion? He sighed heavily. "You're a pretty gal, yes you are." He stared at some blank spot behind me, his smile disappearing. "You know... I've met a young femme once. She was the most beautiful thing in the world. She looked like a little puppet, so fragile. I... I did... something to her..." The Decepticon looked rather horrified now, his functioning optic opened widely. I myself had a little sickish feeling in my chest from his words. I didn't know what exactly he meant, but it couldn't have been good.

"Hey you... if you ever get outta here, could you, ah..." I frowned. What was he getting at? "I mean, if you ever get out and... there's a bot named Drench, rather short, dark green armor, red visor, and I know that's not very likely, but... in case you meet him one day can you... please tell him I'm sorry. Tell him Overcast is sorry. He'll know what it's about."

"Why are you asking me that?" He looked at his hands, turning them palms up in his lap.

"I've done... many terrible things in my life. I know I won't have a chance to make up for it. It won't be long now until it's over. The Autobots got what they wanted." He looked up. "And I get what I deserve." The shackles on his limbs rattled whenever he moved, his deformed armor creaked. "I'm tired of this war now. We've been fighting for thousands and thousands of years and millions of our kind have been slaughtered. I'm kinda glad it's finally over." He smiled almost peacefully. I watched him, captivated. Here he was, a Decepticon facing his execution in the near future, telling me how he'd embrace death. I had to admit that was... somehow admirable. "Would you... do me another favor?" He turned his head into my direction weakly. "It's silly, I know, and we don't really know each other, but... please don't forget me." I didn't really know what to answer to that.

"I... um... okay." I stammered. He smiled.

"Good. I think I'll recharge now. I'm tired." With that said he lay down and closed his optics. I kept watching him while he slept. What a strange person. Somehow I knew that this was the last time he'd speak to me and although he was practically a stranger, a warrior, a killer nonetheless, I did feel some amount of grief. I should be proved correct some time later when Ironhide returned with that green and orange mech, saying that it was time. Overcast knew what that meant. I knew what that meant. I knew it was the last I'd ever see of him when he was pulled to his feet roughly and forced to stumble out of his cell. I'd always remember that last look he gave me shortly before he disappeared around the corner. I shivered.

**Sorry folks you'll probably have to wait a little for the next chapter (a month perhaps). I really need to study for my graduation exams now *gulp*. See ya!**


	9. Time

**Transformers belongs to Hasbro/ Takara**

**The Dark Horizon**

**Chapter 9: Time**

Weeks passed. Or were it months? I didn't know. There was no way to tell whether a mere hour had passed or a whole day. Since although time had become something so precious to me, I could no longer grasp it. The lights in the prison were never turned off, it didn't matter if it was day or night outside. Prisoners came and went, some of them Decepticons, some of them Autobots. The Autobots would be released at one point or another, their foes however didn't seem to be so lucky. Most of the bots ignored me, others kept staring at me like they had seen a ghost. Sometimes one or two of the Autobots would stand in front of my cell and watch me quietly. Even Optimus Prime himself did that once in a while. Whenever he came to visit however, I pretended to be asleep. I didn't want to talk to him and I didn't want his cold blue optics staring into mine. To my surprise, he mostly left me alone. Mostly.

After Overcast's disappearance, no one had really talked to me, but I was often brought new datapads to study, the usual stuff. Language, history. I was quickly becoming better in the cybertronian language, I listened to the prisoners or guards talking to each other quietly and I studied the datapads. There wasn't anything else to do. The walls of my prison were impenetrable and this wing of the base was heavily guarded. It seemed to get smaller every day, too. In other words, I was getting bigger. Realization hit me once when Ratchet visited to make sure my systems were working properly and my head was at one level with the middle of his thigh while I recalled that I had once been too small to even reach his knee with my hands stretched out. He was awfully quiet and I found myself wishing he would just talk to me. Those thoughts forming in _my_ processor! I was bored out of my mind. I started doing silly things at first, walking back and forth on my hands, jumping on the spot, singing out loud, just to do _something_. That used to earn me more confused stares, but I was being stared at anyway so what the fuck.

I also kept thinking about my situation. I was a little, inexperienced femme in a big and dangerous world. There was no one who would help me. I wished someone would spare me the fate of becoming the Autobots' whore and yet I knew that, if I didn't manage to change these precarious circumstances myself, I wouldn't have a choice. I had lost my human rights the moment the Autobots had found me. Extraterrestrials could not lay claim to protection by human governments. Optimus Prime was the only one who was in a position where he could protect me, but considering the fact that he himself was probably the greatest threat to my freedom and inviolacy, the prospects were rather grim. Still, I wondered whether there actually was a side to him that resembled the compassionate and wise leader he was always depicted as even remotely. But so far, pretty much every interaction between the two of us had refuted that hope. He was ruthless. Egoistical. Tyrannical. I... hated him. From the bottom of my heart did I hate him. And it felt so right to do so. He was responsible for all the terror and pain in my life, he had imprisoned me here, he was the one who wanted to break me so I'd become an obedient slave like the others. But that was not gonna happen. I would never surrender to him, I wouldn't accept him as my leader, I promised myself that I would never ever stop opposing him.

I tried to occupy myself further, but as more and more time passed, I found myself becoming quiet and lethargic. Sometimes I'd just sit on the bench for hours and hours, staring but seeing nothing, thinking nothing. There was nothing to see, think or feel, my spirits were fading. I tried to recharge a lot just to kill some time, but I couldn't rest properly. I was being watched constantly. Hostile glances all around me. Not a single move of mine stayed undetected and it unnerved me. It was like they were all poking me in the face constantly. What were they feeling when they saw me? Curiosity? Distrust? Suspicion? Who knew. I picked at the little dents on the bench with my sharp fingertips. Sometimes I thought of hurting myself with those pointy claws of mine. Ratchet would come and patch me up or maybe I'd even be transferred to med bay which would make my next attempt at escape much easier. But then I thought it was probably a bad idea since, if I really managed to escape, I'd need my body functioning at full capacity. It would be hard enough to flee even without any health issues.

I had just finished another bottle of energon when Ironhide stepped up in front of my cell and opened the door. I crept backwards, pressing my shoulders into the solid wall behind me. The big black mech scared me almost as much as Optimus did. He had been the one who had hunted us down when we had almost reached our destination, who had rammed the car and had caused Chelsea to panic so she didn't watch where she was driving anymore and... I tried to shake off the painful memory, but the image of her dead face staring at me, the fear in her lifeless eyes clung to my mind, it was burned into my processor. I didn't want him anywhere near me, but resistance was futile; his rough hands grabbed me nonchalantly and only a short time later, I was stumbling down the hallways of the base with shackles on my wrists and ankles. Leaving the prison, I felt both glad and insecure. There had been no way to escape from my cell, now there was a chance I was being granted lower security standards, but what if that wasn't the case? I knew this specific hallway, knew the large door, knew who the room behind it belonged to. When it opened, I didn't have to look to know about the dark carpeting, the large desk and the Autobot commander sitting behind it. Ironhide stayed behind me, looming and dark. I bowed, just to avoid unnecessary complications.

"Do you know how long it has been?" Prime said.

"No... _sir_." I thought I saw him tense at the pure hatred lingering in that last single word, but his voice remained calm.

"Would you like to know?"

I gritted my teeth. "I would like to know... _sir_." I remained motionless even when he stood up, I didn't want to appear weak in front of him.

"It's been eight months, Alpha. And I must say even this short time has enhanced your appearance quite a bit." There was a slight purr in his deep baritone and I felt his optics on my body, I didn't dare to look at him though. Eight months. Eight fucking months! How could I have spent so much time in there! How was it possible? On the inside, I was fuming while I tried my best to not show my agitation. "I can only guess how beautiful you are going to be once you're full grown." I didn't reply. What was that supposed to be, a compliment? Either way, it served to creep me out and think of things I would have liked to ignore.

"However" He went back to his desk and returned with a small black object. I couldn't help but cringe when he knelt down close to me and removed my shackles before fastening the black thing to my right ankle. It closed with a rather loud click, clinging close to my leg. It wasn't very heavy, still its weight was noticeable on my limb. "we don't want to risk you getting lost again, now do we. This is a tracking device. If you cross your limits within the base, the alarm goes off, also if you try to take it off or deactivate it. We can locate you at any time. Don't see it as a punishment" he sat back down in his huge chair "but as an opportunity. If you behave, you don't have to go back to your cell." For the first time in months, I looked up at his face. There was the slightest hint of a triumphant grin dancing across his features, his optics were cold as ever while he kept watching me closely. I didn't really want to get him angry right now for that would only have resulted in me being put back into a cell (or maybe even room 101, which I absolutely wanted to avoid), nevertheless what little was left of my pride dictated at least a little provocation.

"I shall make good use of the _opportunities_ presented to me, sir." His blue optics narrowed at the ambiguous statement, he leaned back and laced his fingers.

"Take care of what you say, femme."

XXXXXXXXXX

I was back in my now considerably smaller room. Although my enhanced size enabled me to open doors now (if they weren't locked), it was still unnerving. At least I wasn't being carried around all the time. Ratchet had seemed rather relieved when Ironhide had brought me to him, stating that now I was his problem again. The two of them had started bickering for some reason and I had been allowed to retreat to my room. The ocher spot on the wall had been removed and my art supplies were gone, but other than that, the room looked just like the last time I had seen it. Only smaller. It was a painful reminder of the time slipping through my fingers and it just added to the urgency of finding a solution to my problem: how to escape the Autobots. Step one: finding a way to get rid of the tracking device on my leg.

Sitting on the bed, I inspected it closely. It was a rather small, black metal box with a little red light at its top and there was no sign of any unstable components, neither concerning the box itself nor the thick metallic belt holding it in place. I knew I had to somehow get it off without causing the alarm to sound, but how? Maybe it worked like the trigger of a landmine, maybe it had been activated by pressing a button that was now being kept in its position by my leg itself and would go kaboom at its release... or maybe it worked via some kind of electric circuit that would set it off upon disruption... fuck, if I had only paid attention to my physics classes!

I released my ankle from its position on my left thigh and buried my face in my hands. Hell, even if I found out how it worked, I didn't have the tools or the knowledge to remove it safely. Brute force was not an option. I wanted to scream in frustration, but I was sure that Ratchet - who couldn't be far - would have heard it. I didn't need him to bother me right now, thank you very much. But maybe I could subtly get my answers from him later, under the innocent pretension of mild interest. However, he wasn't _that_ dumb. He'd probably figure out why I was asking him and tell me to resume my previous studies, which would of course contribute absolutely nothing to the solution of my current problem.

Damn Ratchet. Damn Autobots. Damn Prime. That stupid, arrogant, idiotic creep! Did he really think he had won, just because I had lost some time and he could now track my movements? Did that asshole actually think he'd break me? While I didn't know what I was going to do next, I did know it was going to get him _very_ mad and would hopefully be my ticket to freedom. No matter how much it would take to hand his aft to him, I was certain that, with a good plan and a lot of luck, I could manage to do just that. He'd regret the day he had offered his hand to me. I shuddered violently. I needed a good plan and I needed it now. If I didn't get away before I was grown up... I didn't want to think of what Prime (who else?) would do. The thought of him being close to me and touching me scared me out of my wits. I didn't want to go to bed with the fear of some brute creeping into my room to... It wouldn't do to bathe in my misery now, to think of what would happen in case the Autobots could really carry out their plans with me. Back to the present. How was I to remove the tracking box?

XXXXXXXXXX

I had just flipped through a datapad on cybertronian table manners while sitting on a workbench in the corner of Ratchet's med bay, several feet away from the medic himself, who was working, as usual. The gadget he was just putting together looked like the head of an oversized fire hose. He hadn't spoken to me yet, instead covertly glancing over to me every now and then. He hadn't really talked to me since I had been released from prison. The silence was making me feel uneasy. Finally, his voice broke the awkward stillness as he pushed his chair away from his workbench and rubbed his face with a sigh.

"These damn kids. Think they can flush anything down the drain."

"Er..." I looked up at him, confused.

"Some of the younger bots accidentally plugged one of the big drain pipes leading from this floor to the water conditioning facility. I have no idea what exactly they were doing, but it seems a foam bomb fell down the drain and detonated... can you imagine that, a pipe big enough I could easily _walk around in there_, totally clogged!" He blinked. "We have removed most of it already, but there still are some remains that keep causing problems. The humans' pressure washers aren't strong enough to get it off, so we need another one." At that he nodded towards the object he had been working on. I wondered why he was telling me about that crap.

"So... what?"

"I just... you know, this base's sewage system is very efficient, but those idiots still manage to plug it. After all, the pipes are... very spacious and... they lead away from base, you know." Realization dawned. He was giving me hints. I nodded, a solemn expression on my face.

The little innuendos continued in the next days. Ratchet was very careful to not spell anything out too clearly, trusting me to understand what he was implying. He must have known I was planning to escape again, and soon. That my time was slowly running out. So he kept telling me in that subliminal way he had a plan and I would soon get another opportunity. A few times he dropped a datapad when he was sure I was watching, saying nothing more than "Oops", but not bothering to pick it up again. There would always be a note attached to it, telling me I should take care no one was watching me reading it. The reasons were obvious; the datapads were on circuitry, computer hacking, processors (which was very useful since I had a processor in my own head as well and I thought I should at lest know how to handle it) transformations and sensitive neural spots on a mech's body that would take out the main motor functions. I decided it was safer if I read them in the privacy of my room. Sometimes he would ask me to help him out with his work, easy tasks like holding parts in place while he secured the positions. He would use those little interactions to hand me little tools or parts inconspiciously, small screwdrivers, wrenches and stuff. The parts reminded me of something...

Sometimes he would act gruff towards me, but only when someone else was at the med bay for a check up or repairs. He would harshly tell me to hand him a tool or replacement part or fetch something from the storage room, but I knew he didn't mean it. I could see it in his optics. He was only acting up so no one would suspect. I took his hints and didn't object. I also refrained from asking him why he was trying to help me (which I still didn't quite understand), he didn't seem to be willing to talk about that anyway. The mechs visiting med bay used to make little perverted jokes and comments about how 'shapely' I was becoming. I must say I was tempted to punch Jazz in the face when he slapped my rear end dauntlessly, but I chose to ignore it. Quarreling would only lead to difficulties that would make it harder to escape.

Sometimes Ratchet would take me to the recreation room in the evening, I didn't like that however. While it was actually interesting to watch the interactions, it was also rather loud, a lot of Autobots used to be there, flocking together on the enormous sofas or at the tables. Prime, whom I had thankfully not encountered a lot since I had received my annoying little appendage, was barely found there; Ratchet told me he used to work a lot and didn't show himself that often, at least not at the rec room. The medic didn't seem to enjoy the evenings at that obnoxiously turbulent place either, but we went there anyway. Late at night (one could tell by the lights being dimmed) I would study Ratchet's datapads secretly. It was exhausting and complicated, but I knew it would pay off. The parts he had leaked to me were, I had noticed, rather exact replicas of those which formed the tracking device's outer shell and I thought I knew what he wanted me to do with them. With my newly gained knowledge, I put them together, one piece after another and in the end, I was holding a perfect copy of the tracking device in my hands, minus the inner parts of course. I smiled, hiding it in one of my desk's drawers.

XXXXXXXXXX

Another bottle of energon was placed on the table in front of me, I looked up. I had just had two full bottles, and my hunger was satiated for now. Analyzing Ratchet's expression carefully, I shifted, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

"I'm not hungry." I said quietly but decisively. He just shook his head briefly, walking past me.

"You will need it tomorrow. It's going to be a long day." The medic said with equal volume, moving to wipe the floor with a big mop. I had noticed that he was spending much of his time cleaning up. It seemed he hated any kind of dirt profoundly and wouldn't even tolerate the tiniest spec of dust. Tomorrow... what exactly was he planning? I hated to admit I kind of trusted the medic by now, at least a little. I still didn't actually like him, though. No, I probably wouldn't ever like him, not after what he had done to me and not under these circumstances. Gingerly I lifted the bottle to my lips and started drinking, letting the warm fuel run down my throat. When I was finished, I felt very full and very tired. I yawned and went to the door that lead to the storage room and therefore to my own room. I wanted to recharge. Ratchet followed me quietly. When I opened the door to my room, I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned around rather hastily, a little alarmed at the unwanted contact. The lime green mech crouched down in front of me, gently taking a hold of both of my shoulders. I wanted to squirm away from him, but some unnamed feeling told me not to.

"Listen closely now, Alpha." he all but whispered. His optics moved quickly to make sure we were absolutely alone. "I'm sure that by now you know how to replace it safely." He looked down at the black box clinging to my ankle. I nodded uneasily, although I wasn't completely sure if I could really remove it without triggering off the alarm. "Alright. I want you to do just that. Replace it tonight, but make sure you get enough rest. And don't do anything imprudent. Don't worry, everything is prepared." With that he stood back up and left. I went into my room and shut the door carefully.

XXXXXXXXXX

I woke up very late, at least I thought it must have been short after noon. I couldn't tell for sure, though, since I hadn't yet mastered the art of accessing my processor consciously as it was described in one of the datapads and thus couldn't check my internal chronometer. But I would eventually learn to do that, it was merely a matter of time. Sitting up slowly, I blinked. The walls of my room stared back at me, silent and depressing as ever. On the desk at the other side of the room, the sight of the still activated, but now removed tracking device greeted me. I smiled somewhat triumphantly. Last night, within maybe two hours and with the help of the datapads, I had successfully opened it, found the right circuit and, without disturbing the flow of electrons in the box and belt, had replaced the device with its fake twin. I hadn't expected it to be that easy. However, I was becoming nervous. What exactly had Ratchet been talking about? Had he even said it or had my sleep deprived processor just made that up? If I only knew. It wouldn't be such a fucking torture to wait for whatever would happen if I just knew.

Maybe it was a trap? What if this was just a setup to tempt me to make another escape attempt that was doomed to go wrong from the beginning? If the others knew about it and were just waiting to catch me? I certainly hoped that that was not the case, that it wasn't just a sadistic plan that would only lead to further torture and imprisonment. I stood up and started pacing the room. I didn't really trust the medic. Well, I did trust him more than the other Autobots, but still. How was I supposed to know he wasn't just trying to deceive me. I went to the door and tried to open it, but it was locked, as it would always be for the night. I resumed my pacing. Ratchet's motivations remained unclear anyway. Why would he want to help me when everyone else seemed to have allied themselves against me? It didn't make sense, but then again, not much had in the last months. If he really had meant what he'd said however... it would be too good to be true.

The time passed excruciatingly slow, I wondered why no one had showed up by now. Hopefully it wasn't just a cruel joke, but with every second that passed it was becoming more likely. Every ten minutes or so I would check if the door was really still locked, although I knew it couldn't have been opened without me noticing. Okay, let's say Ratchet really had planned something serious. First of all there had to be a way to get out of here, hopefully without anyone noticing. Then, I had to get out of this stupid desert and go into hiding somewhere. Probably, with some help, off planet, because if I stayed on earth, I would be found sooner or later, but... did they even have a functional spacecraft? And if they did, so what? I could drive a car, yes, although barely. But a spaceship? Even if I could fly it, I wouldn't know where to go. So there were only two options in case I was to leave the planet: either Ratchet accompanied me or there was someone else.

The telltale click of the door's lock being opened disturbed my thoughts. Quickly, I grabbed the original tracking device and hid it in a drawer of the desk. After all, it could very well be Prime paying me a visit and I didn't want to raise suspicion. To my relief (I think), it was indeed Ratchet, a bottle of fresh energon in his hand. He closed the door after he had entered and locked it from the inside, which made me fidget a little, but I told myself to remain calm. He handed me the bottle and sat down on the edge of my bed. Ratchet looked out of place somehow, not being surrounded by med bay equipment and replacement parts. I waited for him to speak. He motioned for me to drink and slowly, I did.

"There's a hatch in room M- 132. It's opened for the repairs in the drain pipe." He whispered. I put the bottle down and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, listening quietly. "You'll find the room down the corridor leading to the rec room on the left side. When you enter the pipe, you'll just follow it until you reach the underground sewage plant. Watch out to not let anyone see you. In the back of the plant, there are three big ventilation ducts. Take the one on the far left and climb up to the surface. You'll end up in a valley. From there you'll see a hill with two big flat rocks on top; you must reach the crest at exactly 10:17 pm. Not one minute later and not sooner. Then-"

"I don't know what time it is." He stared at me for a moment, but quickly resumed his composure.

"I'll give you a clock later. As I said, then- are you listening?"

"I'm listening."

"Good. You'll be picked up by a friend of mine. He's not cybertronian, but he knows a lot about our species and he'll take good care of you. However, timeliness it is absolutely crucial. You've got only one single chance at this, understood?"

"Yes, but..." I said, wringing my hands uncomfortably. "How am I supposed to get to that room?"

"You'll use this." He pulled a scalpel out from the storage compartment behind his back and activated it, the sharp blade had a blue glow to it, crackling with energy. "I will pretend to take you to the rec room in the evening. When I give you a sign, I guess rubbing my face will do, you'll hit my shin right here." He pointed out a small area beneath his knee between two plates of armor where I could clearly see a thick shock absorber beside a bundle of wires. "I will trip and you'll use the scalpel to cut through the linkage at the back of my knee, here." He pointed out the correct part again. I looked up at him doubtfully.

"You want me to injure you?"

"It needs to look like it's your own plan. If I just let you go, the others will know I'm responsible for this and I won't be able to help you anymore in case the plan doesn't work out, which I hope won't happen."

I remained skeptical. A wanton injury sounded rather stupid, even to me. Well, it would only be him getting hurt, but still. "I don't know..."

"Don't worry, I'll be fine. I just won't be able to stand up until it's fixed again. Trust me." He extended the now off scalpel, offering it to me.

"'_Trust me?_' I've heard that one before."

"Please." Slowly, but still warily, I took the makeshift weapon from his hand.

"What if something goes wrong?" He didn't answer straight away, just looking at me with a mix of emotions I couldn't quite identify. Then, he stood up.

"Drink. And then, rest. I'll pick you up later."

XXXXXXXXXX

I was deep in recharge when something touched my back. My intakes hitched, optics opening immediately. The big hand on my back slid down to cup my butt, squeezing the metal. I turned around in sudden fear. I knew the cruel blue optics staring at me in the darkness all too well. My limbs started thrashing furiously as I tried to get away from him, but he was quick to react, grabbing me by the waist and slamming me back down onto the bed. I wanted to scream, but he covered my mouth with his own; the kiss was long, brutal and disgusting. Kicking my legs aggressively, I tried to hit him again and again, but he didn't even react to the pitiful little attacks I was administering to his huge chassis. My hands were pinned above my head and a thick knee was pressed between my thighs... I screamed. Loud. Ripped my optics open.

I was sitting in my bed, alone. There was no one in my room other than myself. It had been a dream, thank God. My cooling system was pumping air through my body rapidly, I was panting. I groaned, both relieved and terrified. I slumped back onto the bed, a sob left my vocalizer. The image of _him_ touching me in my sleep was... I covered my face with my hands. I didn't want to be touched. I didn't want to be hurt. I tried to relax. Soon, I'd be free and far away from the Prime. Probably.

It didn't take long until Ratchet returned. There was a queasy feeling deep down in my stomach and I felt a little lightheaded when I stood up and walked over to him. He asked me to give him the tracking device, so I went to the desk and got it. He must have known I was nervous so he patted my shoulder reassuringly, but that didn't help in the slightest. I didn't want to be _touched_. He handed me a little clock, as he had promised. It looked like an ordinary battery operated alarm- clock, black with white digits. Not a very modern model, but it would certainly do. I looked up at him uncertainly, he looked back, nodding. We went through the rows of dark storage racks and through the med bay. Every step seemed to last an eternity as we walked down the hallways. It was surprisingly quiet. Ratchet told me there was some kind of game competition at the rec room, so most of the bots would be there, playing card games. We walked along side by side, I had to make five steps for every single one of his, almost jogging to keep up with the much larger mech. The only one we encountered were a few humans on patrol. I kept watching Ratchet out of the corner of my optic. Quick glances to the ceiling and walls confirmed my knowledge of the corridor being monitored.

And suddenly, there it was. He rubbed his face with his hand in a tired manner. My spark heightened its pace as I neared his leg quickly. He made a surprised and pained sound when I kicked his shin the way he had told me to, his leg gave out beneath him and he landed on his front with a loud crash. While he was falling, I readied the scalpel he had given to me for the attack. He groaned painfully and started propping himself up on his hands, I hesitated. The back of his knee was exposed, he seemed to be waiting.

"Do it!" he hissed quietly. I shook my head to clear my processor, grabbed the armor on his calf and buried the activated scalpel in his limb, ripping it across the sinew- like part. It snapped, energon squirted out of the fuel line beside it, landing on my chestplate. Ratchet yelped in acute pain, I jumped away from him. Someone must have heard that. I stumbled ahead, but turned around again. Ratchet's face was scrunched up, his teeth bared in an anguished growl. I jumped when his arm lashed out just to miss me and slump back down to the floor. "Go! Now!"

I ran, focusing on the numbers painted onto the doors at the left. M-128, M-129... M-132. I found the door wasn't locked. I looked back once more, I could still see Ratchet lying on his front and watching me from the distance. I disappeared through the door into the maintenance room where I quickly found the hatch he had been talking about. A repulsive stench hit me like a baseball bat to the face, this really had to be a drain pipe. Climbing down the ladder was easy enough and soon I was running down the huge pipe, dirty water splashing around me with every quick step.


	10. Stars and Ice

**Transformers belongs to Hasbro/ Takara**

**The Dark Horizon**

**Chapter 10: Stars and Ice**

Splash splash splash splash. I looked at the clock I had been given (09:02 pm) before stuffing it back into the small space beneath my slightly protruding chest where, I had found out a few days ago, I could store small objects quite easily. I didn't know how far I had to go until I'd reach the sewage plant since I couldn't see an end to the tunnel, so I tried to run faster. It was very dark down here, but not too dark to see. After approximately 15 minutes, I reached an intersection where three equally big other pipes met with the one I was using. They all led to another, even bigger one. This one even had some kind of raised sidewalk, so I didn't have to run on in the water; it would have been rather difficult anyway since the current was pretty strong already.

The environment reminded me of the movie Alien vs. Predator Requiem, but I quickly tried to wipe that thought from my processor, I was scared enough as it was, I didn't need to think of any horror movies right now. Still, as I ran past other, smaller pipes merging with this one, I couldn't help but wonder what ghastly creatures could be lurking in the shadows. I ran faster.

Thank God Ratchet had given me the extra energon... I probably wouldn't have lasted this long if he hadn't. 09:35 pm. I thought I heard something behind me, but I didn't pay much attention to it. If it was just a rat or something, it wasn't worth worrying about, if it was an Autobot... then my only chance would be running anyway. Speaking of Autobots, I wondered what took them so long; usually they would have been hard on my heels already. Maybe Ratchet misled or distracted them... Ratchet. He had helped me after all. But I wasn't in safety yet, it could still have been a trap. No need to praise him before the plan had actually worked out. At 09:41 pm I finally reached the end of the tunnel: the sewage plant. The pipe opened at the top and so I climbed up its side so I wouldn't be washed into the big water strainer ahead, but I remained cautious, lifting my head over the edge just enough so I could look if everything was clear.

There was a human soldier maybe a hundred meters ahead, standing guard and obviously bored out of his mind. I looked up. The room was huge and cavernous, at least 300 meters in diameter and 50 in height, the walls were too smooth to climb. There were the ventilation ducts Ratchet had mentioned at the other side of the hall, large and silver. I looked back at the soldier. He yawned. A human sized door in the wall behind him opened and another guard stepped out. The first soldier turned around and they started chatting. It was probably the end of a shift, clever.

There were a few machines across the large room where I'd be hidden from view if I ducked behind them, the ear- shattering roar they were constantly giving off would obscure the noise of my own footsteps. So, moving swiftly, I dared to climb over the pipe's rim and jump down on the other side before taking cover behind the first machine. I checked for the guards; they didn't seem to have noticed me. There were large circular basins behind me with long metal rotatable arms mixing their dirty contents. I didn't want to know what exactly was in there. I crouched down low and continued. I needed to be on time.

Suddenly, the first guard started walking towards me. If I didn't get away from my current spot, he'd see me! The next good cover was too far away and I couldn't get there without being noticed, I panicked. What to do, what to do! The only way was... oh shit _no_. The basin behind me. Now _that_ was disgusting. But then I thought back to my nightmare and that it would most likely become reality if I couldn't escape and that was worse than a swimming pool full of feces. And so, not without feeling very sick about it, I quickly took the clock between my jaws so it wouldn't short out and lowered myself into the liquid until I was in there up to my neck. I'd probably stink terribly for the next weeks. However, my plan worked. Hidden behind the anchorage of the rotatable mixer, I heard the soldier stepping up to the basin, saying "Nah, it's nothing" and returning to his colleague. When he was out of sight, I scrambled out of there hastily, placing the clock back in its former place and shaking my limbs a little to get the dirt off. I felt like throwing up. But I didn't have time for that now.

After a few more minutes, I had reached the ventilation shaft and after avoiding to be hit by the huge and slow fan's wings at the bottom, I was going upwards over the ladder inside. I had to be on the hill in 25 minutes. The vertical climb was long and exhausting, but I didn't dare to take a break. I couldn't be late. And I wouldn't be. With renewed vigor, I pulled myself up, again and again. After nine minutes of constant and fast climbing, I reached the top. It was dark outside and pretty cold. The duct had a heavy lid of metal mesh, but the gaps between the bars were big enough for me to squeeze through. The stars were the only source of light out here and the moon wasn't visible, but I could see well enough. Ahead, the hill with the rocks. Its side was very steep, the peak was high: it would be another exhausting ascent. But the thought of being free urged me on. The dry stone beneath my feet tended to crumble and I often lost my footing, little rocks were loosened under my weight and clattered down the cliff, but I continued.

When I reached a narrow ledge, I looked at the clock again. 10:12 pm. I tucked it away again. I had to hurry. But suddenly, there was a spotlight directed at me and I could hear shouts from afar. Cold fear clenched around my spark. I had been spotted. Down by the foot of the hill I could see a few human soldiers with their army vehicles, one of them mounted with a huge searchlight, standing beside them was Bumblebee in his bipedal mode. I decided to climb on. If I was lucky and they didn't have an aircraft at hand, they wouldn't be able to catch me before I reached the top. I didn't think about what would happen even if I reached the crest before them and on time. My processor was too occupied with the situation I was being faced with right now. I heard the sound of moving metal and rumbling rocks below and a glance over my shoulder revealed Bumblebee had started coming after me, gaining space quickly. I pulled at a few loose boulders to my right and ducked to the left, climbing on while they tumbled into the depths. I didn't have time to look whether they had hit their target, I only heard the yellow scout yelp.

At least, I reached the top panting and- nothing. There was nothing here. I jumped up onto one of the flat rocks, still nothing. What was this, a joke? Had I climbed up here for the nice view? There was no one here! Around me, I could see the endless desert at one side and more mountains at the other. Miles away, the lights of the base were illuminating the darkness, if only those of the hangar and a few guard posts above the ground. Looking over the edge, I spotted Bumblebee still climbing upwards. For a moment, I cursed that damn medic.

Then, I heard a thunderous sound from the distance, but I couldn't identify its source. It seemed to close in on me, but I still couldn't see a thing, only the stars above. A few hundred meters away, the sky flickered, I squinted my optics to see what was going on. Whatever it was, it was big. Huge, actually. And suddenly, it appeared just out of nowhere. A ship; about the size of a jumbo jet, dark silver and massive. Its tip was pointy and merged into a blade- shaped fuselage with two big side extensions near the back, two rows of white lights stretched along its side. It slowed down considerably and a hatch at its flank opened, a short ramp was extended. It didn't touch the ground though, merely hovering a few feet above the other flat rock.

I felt paralyzed. A spaceship! Ratchet had organized a spaceship that would take me off the planet! It scared me a bit and I found myself unable to move for a few seconds. If I went aboard, I would most likely never see my home again. But with it, the Autobots. When Bumblebee peeked over the cliff's edge however, his face dented and his armor scratched, it didn't take long for me to decide. I ran over to the alien spacecraft and jumped onto the ramp. We took off immediately, leaving a fuming scout behind who tried to shoot at the vessel, but some invisible force field prevented the ship from being hit. The ramp closed smoothly, I kept staring at it, sitting on the cold floor.

The engines of the ship seemed to power up, sending strong vibrations through its body along with a loud hum. Another noise behind me caught my attention and I turned around. I twitched. There was... something... standing in the dim light of the ship's interior. It didn't look humanoid. All I could make out were long, spidery legs though. It said something with a rather deep and raspy voice, but I didn't understand what it was. It had sounded like Cybertronian, but with a very strange accent. The alien stepped forward into the light, I crawled back. It cocked its head, eying me up curiously. The creature itself looked rather scary. It seemed to be organic, just a little taller than me with dark gray leathery skin and big sharp teeth. The legs I had seen before (four legs, to be exact) protruded from its abdomen, which turned into a muscular torso, clad with sparse metal clothing. Its four arms (actually three and a half) looked thin and wiry and the sturdy neck ended in an edgy head with a long snout full of pointy yellowish teeth. The eyes were dark. So the friend Ratchet had been talking about was another alien. Figured.

Again, it said something. And again, I didn't understand. I shrugged helplessly. It extended its clawed hand slowly, cooing slightly. I didn't comply right away. After all, I didn't even know _what_ that thing was. Then again, despite its outer appearance, it didn't seem to intend to harm me and so I extended my own hand carefully. It felt like an electric shock when our fingers touched and I tried to pull back, but it had already grasped my hand firmly.

_Don't worry, I'm here to help you._ I heard its voice in my head. _I'm a male, not an 'it'._ I blushed mentally. Obviously, he could read my thoughts. With an elegant turn of his neck, he motioned along a narrow gangway leading deeper into the ship. _Follow me. _He let go of my hand and walked ahead, his sharp feet making little clicking noises on the metal floor. I looked around. I had traveled in an airplane before, but this was entirely different. It was kind of dark and the walls were lined with thick cables and pipes, unlike the conventional human aircraft. I looked at the alien in front of me. His tail was seesawing up and down as he walked and now that I was watching him more closely, I could see something resembling ears on top of his head, pulled back tensely, and some sort of weapon attached to his back. So... he had read my thoughts, but only when he'd touched me- and I had heard him. How was that possible? Sure he wasn't human, maybe that was just the way his kind communicated, but... I still wondered how it worked.

We reached some kind of bridge where another, slightly smaller alien was seated in front of what seemed to be some sort of command console behind a large front window through which the stars and the black sky could be seen. It (or also he?) didn't turn around when we entered, completely occupied with steering the ship. I was invited to sit down on a strangely shaped chair fastened to the wall at the right side of the room. The two aliens talked in their native language briefly before the bigger one sat down beside me and offered his hand again. I concentrated on thinking nothing impolite or even hostile before accepting his proposal, putting my hand into his gently, even though I wasn't absolutely sure if I should really trust him.

_Your name is Alpha, right? Ratchet told me about you._ He stated mentally. I nodded slowly.

"Who are you?" I asked in my not very perfect Cybertronian. Thankfully, he seemed to understand me.

_My name is Nwym. This is my apprentice, Rokin. I'm a medic, like Ratchet. A long time ago, we were fighting the Decepticons at my home solar system and he saved my life. I lost my arm, though._ He mentioned, raising his crippled limb. _I owed him. I hadn't heard from him for quite a while, that was until, a short time ago, I received an encoded request to do him a favor._ I frowned.

"So... what now?" He made a strange sound, it could have been interpreted as a sigh.

_We need to take you to our home planet. You'll be safe there, I hope. Although it won't be easy. Ratchet must really care for you, considering he asked me to protect you at all costs._ He leaned a little closer, I could see a vivid glint in his black eyes as he inspected me further. With his sharp fangs so close to my face, I felt the urgent need to distance myself a little, but that would have been pretty rude.

_You don't have to be afraid. I promised you wouldn't be harmed and I always keep my promises._ A faint feeling of care and protection came over me, but it must have been coming from him. Still, it helped me to feel a little safer in his presence. His slender nostrils opened a little further and he sniffed the air around me. _What is that smell?_

"You don't want to know."

XXXXXXXXXX

I woke up feeling warm, cozy and clean. Where was I? Felt like home but... no, it couldn't be. Like so often, I had woken up just to be disappointed in my belief of waking up back home at my parents' house again. But this time, it was different. True, I wasn't back home. But I felt safe; I wasn't with the Autobots anymore. I stretched languorously. A few hours ago, Nwym had kindly showed me where I could clean myself before leading me to the small cabin I had now been recharging in. The bed made a slightly sizzling noise whenever I moved, but it was comfortable. I looked out of the small round window behind me. The stars, which I had never before seen so brilliantly, seemed to be passing by slowly and yet I knew we must have been moving at very high speed.

The aliens, despite their terrifying outer appearance, had been very friendly; the elder medic had even showed some kind of fatherly attitude towards me. I smiled. I was safe. Safe from further humiliation, safe from torture, imprisonment and rape. Safe from Prime. Sitting up, I rubbed my optics and sighed while reveling in the imaginations of my now much brighter future. I would go to another planet where I'd be far away from oppression and war; true, I would probably have to hide for the rest of my life, but if that was the price for a life in freedom, it would absolutely be worth it.

I felt like I had been granted unimaginable luxury when I opened the cabin's door by myself and stepped out into the gangway, feeling rested and happier than in the past thirteen months. As expected, Nwym and Rokin were at the command bridge, watching the ship's gauges and radars silently. Although I had been very quiet, Rokin seemed to have heard me entering and turned around, his ears twitching upwards attentively. He licked his front teeth swiftly, which, Nwym had explained earlier, was their way of smiling. I nodded politely and went to sit down near them, curiously watching the blinking controls and monitors. After the warm welcome before, I did feel strangely at ease in their company, even if I didn't know them very well. After typing some commands into the console in front of him, Nwym turned around in his chair and put one of his three hands to the underside of my jaw gently.

_Do you feel better now?_ He asked amiably. I nodded, not even trying to pull away from him to my own surprise. We talked a little. He told me we had just passed the orbit of Neptune and would be able to risk a warp as soon as we had left the solar system and that it would still take a while until we'd reach our destination. He also asked me how I had actually gotten into the predicament of having been detained by the Autobots and so I told him about my life as a human, about my stupid greenness and how I had learned what life with them really meant for me. Sometimes I did have trouble spelling it out because my Cybertronian was just too bad and aside from that, I didn't seem to be able to communicate just like he did. I couldn't really talk to him mentally, maybe my thoughts were too tumultuous for that. I guess he knew what I was thinking and wanted to say anyway, but reading one's thoughts just wasn't comparable with a respectful conversation. And so, he proved to be a patient listener, even if my grammar and pronunciation weren't always perfect.

That was until a half snarling, half whining sound came from Rokin, who suddenly seemed very tense and agitated. Nwym let go of me immediately and turned to his apprentice while frantically checking the readings on the monitors and typing commands. They started talking with an urgent tone, making me nervous. What was going on? A few buttons were pushed and I could see two huge guns extending from below the bridge, each with multiple barrels and each bigger than my whole body. Similar sounds from other areas of the ship told of more built in weapons being readied for battle, loud bangs, groans and clicks echoing through the metallic insides while the engines were being powered up to full capacity- still, we seemed to be slowing down. I moved to stand up, but Nwym pushed me back down into my seat quickly, telling me to hold on to something hastily and so I did, starting to get really scared. The two of them buckled up and Rokin pulled a big switch which showed its effect immediately: the artificial gravity had been turned off, the unusual feeling making me feel sick and want to cling to the thick metal stiffener beside me.

"What's going on?" No one answered my question, since no one had time to do so right now. But the suddenly so fast- paced situation soon explained itself when the previously black screen above the front window buzzed to life, showing the face of a very angry looking Autobot commander. I gulped, the energon in my veins seemed to run cold.

"This is Optimus Prime speaking. We have you surrounded and your kinetic drive has been taken out of operation. Surrender the female and you shall remain unharmed." he rumbled threateningly and decisively as three smaller ships appeared in front of us. While Rokin looked pretty frightened now, Nwym seemed unimpressed, staring down the intimidating mech and answering calmly. Just like before, I didn't understand him due to his accent. However, Prime seemed to understand just fine and he didn't look very happy about what the other alien had said.

"I will not commit myself to your little games, Corulans. Hand her over or we will retrieve her with force. You've got one breem." While I was frantically praying they wouldn't comply to his demand, Nwym answered as calmly as before while reaching beneath the command console and pulling an additional little, flat console out of its bulk, a big red button at its center. Then, without any real warning, he shut down the communication link to the blue and red Autobot before slamming one of his fists down on the button. I yelped as the ship suddenly lurched forward and down, spinning wildly- obviously for a reason.

Bright projectiles flew past us, missing the ship only narrowly and disappearing in the depths of space. By now, Rokin had put on some kind of helmet which covered his eyes completely while his hands had found their way to four flexible control sticks. The guns mounted on our ship went off, steered and triggered by the younger alien. I held on to the support beam for dear life as the ship roared into a small group of ice- covered asteroids, probably to shake off the attackers, barrel- rolling and maneuvering rapidly. Nwym altered the course almost brutally so we raced around one of the bigger pieces of icy travelers completely and were now behind our persecutors and that was the first time I saw the Autobot's mother ship.

It was more than double the size of the one we were sitting in, large, tan colored and broad, powered by five huge rocket engines at its back and mounted with multiple massive turrets. Rokin fired at it from behind, the heavy weaponry making the whole ship vibrate even more as shot after shot left the enormous barrels. But while the big ship in front of us was too heavy and therefore too cumbrous to escape the fast attack, the smaller ones I had seen before certainly weren't and so we had to dodge their attacks with more daredevil maneuvers. Their number had risen to five instead of three and all of them were now chasing after us while the mother ship had to fly a wide arc to turn around and follow. As we raced ahead, I could see another planet, small with gray, black and yellowish spots, revolved by a plain gray moon, to our left. Was that Pluto, the dwarf planet with its moon, Charon?

We wouldn't have crossed its orbit if we could have maintained our current course, but when a big explosion at the back rocked the ship, causing it to spin out of control, our vessel neared the planet's moon faster than I thought was healthy. Nwym growled angrily, trying to stabilize our flight, but as we had obviously lost at least one engine, that proved difficult. I thought we were all going to die as the moon's surface came closer and closer while the ship even seemed to gain momentum. I screamed and held on to the ship's metal interior tighter, wanting to close my optics so I didn't have to witness the impact, but found myself unable to look away. Somehow, the elder alien managed to force the vessel into a flat course above the rugged moon surface, but we were still descending too quickly. I knew an impact was now unavoidable and so I held on tight enough to leave dents, ducking my head and finally squeezing my optics shut. I was almost ripped off my seat when we crashed into the surface hard, sliding along for miles with the sickening sound of snapping and screeching metal all around us.

Finally, the ship came to a brutal halt when it collided with the side of a large crater. A loud crack of breaking glass was heard before the air was pulled out of the ship through the burst front window. Shuddering, I dared to open my optics again when it had stopped moving, hoping I wouldn't be confronted with a second Chelsea- scenario. To my relief, both Nwym and Rokin, who had thrown off his helmet, seemed to be uninjured, but they looked panicked, trying to get out of their seats desperately and reaching for the storage compartments above their heads. The air! They were organic and certainly needed to breathe! I jumped up and over to them, almost crashing into the shattered window due to the low gravity, but catching my fall, ripping open the flaps they were reaching for. Two objects fell out slowly, looking like breathing masks. Rokin grabbed the one that was descending above his lap hastily and pressed it onto his face, but Nwym seemed to have passed out and so I took the other mask and put it over his snout quickly. He awoke immediately, gasping for air. Meanwhile, I had started to pry open his seatbelt, fumbling with the complicated catch. Rokin had managed to free himself by now. Pushing me aside when I didn't manage to open his instructor's seatbelt, he freed his older friend quickly and helped him to his feet.

I was dragged along to the ship's middle and we entered a small room where Rokin activated something looking like a shower which befogged all three of us with a strange liquid. When the fog cleared, our bodies were covered by a transparent but protective airy shell. I felt very warm immediately. I knew why they had done that when we went back out of the room and to an emergency exit. The cold pressed every last bit of air out of my vents, immediately penetrating my whole body despite the airy insulation. Nwym and Rokin seemed to be freezing too, but still they urged me on. There was no sound on the icy luminary and still it felt unbearably loud to me as we hurried away from the ship, and not one second too early: in a ball of fire, it exploded, sending dangerous, huge and sharp shrapnels flying everywhere. Thankfully, none of us was hit and so we moved on.

With almost zero gravity, it was hard to run without flying off into space and because I didn't have any experience with how to move in almost absolute weightlessness, the others often had to stabilize me and pull me back to the ground. But the gravity would turn out to be the least of our problems. Not far away, the big Autobot ship was already preparing to land while the smaller and faster ones were racing towards us. I felt how the low temperatures were wearing down my ability to move. Because there was no atmosphere, there was not a single sound when two of the agile ships landed in front of us and the pilots, Sideswipe and Bumblebee, jumped out. They obviously didn't have much of a problem with the cold and the gravity, running towards us easily, their weapons drawn.

I didn't know what to do. Nwym grasped my and Rokin's forearms firmly and told us he would hold them off and that we should flee before he let go and positioned himself in front of us protectively, elongating his spider legs until he reached an intimidating height and pulling the weapon he had been carrying from his back. However, that didn't impress the two approaching Autobots in the slightest; they didn't even slow down. I wanted to protest, wanted to stop him before he got hurt, but Rokin pulled me away forcefully, taking off into the opposite direction. I would never see Nwym again.

We ran as fast as we could under the adverse circumstances, and very soon we reached a deep canyon with tall and sharp- edged crags where we could probably hide. Although I already knew it was hopeless since we didn't even have a ship anymore and therefore couldn't leave this god forsaken rock, I followed Rokin into the canyon swiftly. I thought that dying on the run and in freedom was probably still better than going back to the Autobots. And so, with the only goal of staying on the move, we ran into the labyrinth of stone and ice.

XXXXXXXXXX

Rokin fell to the cold ground beside me, I noticed in torpidity. Moving had become almost impossible, every small step had turned into painful torture. I sank to my knees beside him, clumsily brushing the ice off his gray shoulders and trying to shake him weakly. He looked up at me, his chest heaving in a feeble manner. I knew he didn't have enough strength left to continue, nor did I. But with the last reserves I had left, I grabbed him by the arms and dragged him beneath a nearby overhang so the Autobots wouldn't spot us, where I slumped down beside him into the ice powerlessly. The cold had long since stiffened my joints and fogged my processor.

His eyes were growing dull slowly, but I tried to keep him awake, shaking him again and again. I didn't want him to die. Still, his breath got weaker and weaker until it ceased altogether. Not realizing he had passed away, I tried to talk to him, but I was unable to produce a sound. Don't leave me alone... don't...

I could barely move anymore. My fingertips grazed the translucent part of his breathing mask shakily and my mouth opened in a silent plea before I passed out.

**So... a mean cliffhanger again XD. Just so you know, I'll be visiting London for the next week so don't be surprised if I don't post anything. Anyway, please review!**


	11. Judiciary

**Transformers belongs to Hasbro/ Takara**

**The Dark Horizon**

**Chapter 11: Judiciary**

I found myself enveloped in dizzy warmth when I came to, my body felt weightless. A slight stabbing pain emanated from my fuel pump, spreading further through my limbs with every strained beat. My optics felt glued and spongy as I opened them ever so slightly but with huge effort, like a newborn's eyes which had yet to open for the very first time. I couldn't see much. Shadows were moving in front of me, blurred and amber... For a while I kept drifting off into unconsciousness again and again, just to awake within the same hovering warmth, a headache now very noticeable at the back of my processor.

My mouth opened a bit, but there was no air in my systems to press out. Every time I woke up, I became a little more aware of myself until I finally recalled what had happened. Still, I was more asleep than awake. One thing was certain though: I wasn't on that icy moon anymore, nor was I in Rokin's or Nwym's company. The Autobots must have won once again. My hands twitched, aching uncomfortably. The pain, I noticed, was slowly ebbing away though, and so I kept staring into the amber nothingness, waiting for something to happen. I wasn't scared for some reason, although I would have preferred a fearful sensation to the simple numbness in my processor; I didn't feel like I was still alive whenever I dwelt in this frail emotional state, when there was just no sentiment...

The shadows in front of me were moving more rapidly now, finally, one of them got bigger until it blocked almost every beam of light reaching my optics. And then, my floating upper arms were grabbed firmly and I was being pulled upwards.

I struggled in the mech's arms, whoever it was, my vision still blurred, but the warmth around me was gone and replaced with a cool gust of air. My body seemed to be covered in oil, so the bot holding me had a hard time to keep his grip on my kicking form and I dropped to the cold floor, squirming in the smeary liquid. I didn't remain there for long however. The bot pulled me to my feet intricately and directed me backwards. Warm and soapy water hit me and washed the slippery covering off my body. I started to see more clearly, but the environment was not familiar to me at all; I merely recognized the mech in front of me: Sideswipe. He started scrubbing at my body with a rag. I tried to bat him away clumsily, but my movements were too uncoordinated to take any effect.

Prowl was also there, holding another, but much bigger rag in his hands, a huge tank of amber colored oil behind him. I didn't have the energy to oppose them, feeling unimaginably tired and dizzy, swaying on my feet as Sideswipe pulled me out of the warm shower and guided me to the second in command roughly who wrapped me in the rag he had been clutching. His hands were holding my shoulders tightly, even when I resumed struggling half heartedly. When I stomped down on a particularly sensitive spot of his foot fortuitously though (more out of luck than anything), he let go of me, cursing. However, Sideswipe wouldn't give me an opportunity to escape (it wasn't like I'd have had a real chance to do so anyway), grabbing me before I could do any more harm. Escaping his vice- like embrace was impossible and so I stopped fighting for now.

The two of them led me out of the room, guiding me down a few rather wide gangways that were filled with a dim, yellowish light, and metal stairs, leading to the lower levels of the ship and into the brig, which consisted of merely two cells. One of them was fitted with a bed that was fastened to the floor solidly, padded with many blankets and pillows, the other one was empty, with nothing but a scuttle in its wall gazing out into the blackness of space. I was lifted into the bed without much ado and the two mechs tucked me in tightly; they were working with a speed and an assertiveness that didn't leave any possibilities for me to do anything about it. In the end, they pulled a thick net over the blankets and fastened it to the floor beside the bed so I couldn't get back up. Before I could even react, the two of them had left the cell, locked the door behind themselves and activated the energy bars before switching off the lights so the only thing illuminating the brig was the energy field surrounding and permeating the metal bars of my cell. Then, they left the brig altogether.

The warmth was almost unbearable, but even though I would have liked to struggle out of it, there was just no strength left in my body. With my optics half closed, I kept watching the door for a few minutes before the warmth contributed by the thick blankets and the tiredness took their toll on my systems.

XXXXXXXXXX

Yellowish bright, but fickle light shining through the small window woke me. It was like fire was lapping at the ship's outer shell... actually, from what I could see, it looked very much like the vessel was indeed burning on the outside. Panic clenched around my spark and I suddenly became very aware of my surroundings. Would the ship crash? Would it explode in the skies? I couldn't get away, being fastened to the bed by the taut net covering the blankets and so I screamed for help, but there was no one around. From within my warm and soft casing, I tried to flex my claws to shred the blankets and pillows surrounding me, but I was wrapped up so tightly I could barely move my hands. Heavy turbulence made the enormous ship shudder and I screamed once again. I wanted to get out of here! I strained in my wrapped up position, I tried so hard my hydraulics felt like they were going to snap, but when I realized there was no way to get out on my own, I clenched my optics shut and waited for the end, for the explosion that would rip the spacecraft apart and end the lives of all the bots on board, including myself.

But it didn't come. Instead, the ship's flight seemed to calm slowly and when I reopened my optics, the flames at the scuttle were fading away, making room for a bright blue sky. There was a faintly ill and pressing feeling at the back of my throat and in my audios, like when you drove down a rather steep hill in a car. I tried to make it go away, gulping again and again, but it only grew stronger and along with it, the previous headache returned. I groaned in discomfort.

It seemed to take an eternity for the ship to descend, but with every decrease of altitude I felt my anxiety returning. I didn't fear dying in a terrible crash now, I feared what would happen after the ship had touched the ground again. I feared Prime. What would he do to me? Would I be tortured again? What about Ratchet? He had done his best to help me escape, but now it was unlikely his involvement had stayed undetected. After a while, the spacecraft had slowed down considerably and although I couldn't stand up to look out of the window, I thought it now stood still completely... but, no. It was still moving, but vertically, downwards. My spark was pulsing very fast now, my fuel pumps chasing the energon through my panicked system.

A last flicker of bright sunlight danced across the scuttle in the other cell before it was engulfed in shadow, a gray concrete wall becoming visible, lit with vertical rows of small flashing LED lights. A final shudder went through the ship before the engines powered down, my vents hitched and I grew completely stiff, maybe in the subconscious hope to stay undetected by the Autobots (who would certainly come to get me in the next moment) if I didn't move. Despite the uncomfortably high temperature beneath the covers, I tried to crawl further into the blankets to hide myself from view. I knew it was childish and futile, like an infant hiding from the doctor beneath the examination table, but still. I didn't have to wait long until heavy footsteps became audible outside the door that separated the small brig from the next gangway. By now, I had managed to hide the biggest part of my face beneath the blanket so all that was visible of me now were my left optic and my forehead. Not that it would have helped me in any way. Prowl looked solemn when he entered, alone and with a pair of solid handcuffs dangling from a clamp beside a gun holster on his right hip. He stepped into my cell and closed the door behind himself diligently.

Of course I tried to escape as soon as the net had been removed, wriggling out of the covers quickly and hurrying to the door, grabbing the bars and shaking them desperately, but it couldn't be opened, no matter how hard I tried. Prowl, who had now turned around to grab me, started growling lowly, although he remained relatively calm otherwise. Because I couldn't get out I tried to go for his gun, but he grabbed my arms roughly and pushed me back onto the bed face first, twisting my wrists behind my back and binding them with the handcuffs before pulling me to my feet again. Holding my forearms so tight it started hurting, he leaned down to hiss into my audio receptor.

"If you don't behave I will beat you up personally after Prime is finished with you." I couldn't do much more than squeak before he pushed me out of the brig and through the ship's enormous fuselage. Being fully awake and aware, I could now see it clearly, could take in all the features around me. It was way bigger than I had previously assumed, at least five times bigger than Nwym's ship. Prowl pushed me on and on, through the many high corridors and through a huge cargo bay, which housed not only large boxes with who knows what inside, but also huge missiles and other ammunition secured to the walls, right next to the smaller ships that had been deployed to chase after the aliens' ship in space. They looked somewhat dirty and scuffed, but I didn't have much time for further examination since the silver and black mech behind me urged me onwards constantly. When we exited the ship over the extended loading ramp, I gasped in both shock and awe. I hadn't expected to see something like this.

The ship had landed in some kind of underground hangar, however, the sheer size of it was breathtaking. Absolutely intimidated, I noted that the walls, consisting of huge glass windows in the higher levels, were standing extremely tall, probably four or five hundred meters. Huge metal doors formed the ceiling, all in all the hall was big enough in diameter to comfortably house the mother ship. The surroundings were, even though I hadn't been in this particular vault before, familiar. We were back on earth, at the underground Autobot base. I had guessed it was big before, but this went far beyond my imagination. For a moment I forgot walking or worrying about what would happen in the very near future so it was not before I received a hearty shove from Prowl that I resumed moving. I wondered which function the rooms at the top had, the ones with the windows. But investigations could wait. Right now, I was in trouble. Big time.

I was pushed into an elevator (certainly not one I had ever used before), which started ascending quickly. There was another bot in the lift next to Prowl and myself, rather short with night blue armor, his face pale with nervous purplish blue optics. I knew I had seen him before when he had guarded the base's prison, but I couldn't recall his name. He didn't speak though, merely making room for the two of us. He twitched when I tried to jerk out of Prowl's grasp in vain, still he didn't seem to dare to look at me openly. I wasn't so sure if it was Prowl or me who made him so anxious.

It didn't take long for the elevator to reach its destination, its plain metal clad walls reflecting the lights of the corridor it had opened to. Another shove told me to move and with a fresh wave of mortal fear, I left the rather small confined space of the elevator grudgingly to walk down the hallway. I had never been in this part of the base before. The lighting was somehow different and the floor and walls looked somewhat neater than I had remembered those in the other areas to be. All in all, it looked very official. When we reached a large, double winged door guarded by two bulky mechs, I gulped nervously.

The door was opened when we came closer and I flinched at the noise suddenly hitting my sensitive audios; there were several mechs inside, seven to be exact, sitting at a huge set of tables which formed a big U, opened towards the door. They were talking agitatedly, quarreling and discussing in Cybertronian. I didn't understand much though, the fast words were overlaying with each other, blurring. A few seats at the table's head were still vacant, as well as a single one to the left side. I wanted to press my palms to my audios to blank their voices out, wanted to just hide somewhere. I wished for a hole in the floor to suddenly appear so I could jump into it just so I wouldn't have to endure this. Some of the Autobots shot me some sideways glances, obviously disapproving of my presence. As I looked at them more closely, I noticed the mech I feared most however wasn't there.

Suddenly, the doors behind me reopened with a bang and the bots in the huge conference room went completely silent, rising from their chairs and saluting. I heard several mechs entering the room and when I turned around, I saw him. Optimus Prime strode past me graciously, rounding the set of tables and went to stand before the huge chair in front of me, facing me, being followed by a few other mechs of the Autobots' high command. I heard more bots entering the room and only seconds later, a familiar lime green medic crashed to the floor beside me, his wrists shackled behind his back. He tried to get up onto his knees, but he was obviously having problems with that, given that his hands were restrained and his knee joint didn't look like it had been repaired. An unfamiliar silver mech helped him before walking over to me where he took Prowl's position. The officer went to stand beside his Prime, who sat down, signaling for the other Autobots to do the same. I looked at Ratchet beside me, he looked back solemnly. Then, Prime started speaking.

"So, was that really worth it, youngling?" He said, his smoky voice way too smug and superior. I glared at him, hatred for the red and blue mech welling up in my very soul. Nwym and Rokin, two medics who had treated me with so much care and compassion, who had tried to rescue me and who had done everything in their might to protect me although we actually didn't know each other, were dead. They would still have been alive if the bigheaded scrapheap in front of me hadn't given the order to attack and I... I wouldn't have to bear his cocky smile tugging at the corners of his mouth right now. Two kind lives had been extinguished and all he did was sitting there, smiling and talking about it like it had been a dumb child's prank.

"I must say I'm disappointed. After all we've done for you, after we retrieved you, freed you of your degrading disguise, fed you and protected you, you still decided to betray us." My fists clenched behind my back.

"After what you've _done for me_?" I hissed between my clenched metallic teeth, scrunching up my face in disgust. "How dare you... you ruined my life! You _killed_ my friends!" I shouted, but quickly noted that getting the commander angry was probably not a good idea. Judging by his, now changed, expression I could tell he probably would have liked to bite my head off anyway and because I didn't really want to get into even more trouble than I already was in, I let my grief prevail over my anger for once. The other mechs looked perplexed, shocked even at how I had spoken to their leader. In the brief silence after my little outburst, whispers went through their rows. I closed my optics slowly, my shoulders sagged. Very quietly, I resumed talking. "You... you've taken away everything I had... everything I loved... I've got nothing left." I could practically hear the arrogant smile in Prime's voice when he continued with his attempt at making me feel guilty and it only helped to make me boil with fury on the inside again.

"Remember you brought this upon yourself, Alpha. If you had cooperated from the very beginning-"

"Then what! Nothing would have been different! In case you haven't noticed: I never had a choice, never! You-"

"Alpha. Don't. It's bad enough as it is." Ratchet interjected, which earned him scolding from Prime immediately.

"You'll keep out of this, medic! And you." His glare focused on me again, optics blazing with aggression. "I should beat you up for your impudence. Your behavior is intolerable and believe me, it will not remain without punishment." His voice rose again, perfectly official this time. "For now, four hours of water shorting should do."

My optics widened. No. Not that. I fell to my knees weakly, the mech behind me didn't seem to mind. "Please, no... I promise I-"

"We all know your promises are of little value, female. You should be grateful our Prime is willing to show such mercy." A lean red mech with a British accent said. I scowled at him.

"But-"

"That is enough. We have not gathered here to listen to your unsubstantiated complaints. You will be quiet now or else I will have to deal with you _right now_." Prime said threateningly. However, when I lowered my head and didn't answer, he waved his hand dismissively before addressing the higher ranked culprit in the room. "Chief Medical Officer Ratchet, you are incriminated to have been involved in the most recent escape of this young femme. Additionally, you have illegally revealed her existence and her location to two Corulans, endangering our diplomatic relations with their people." He said, glaring at the mech beside me darkly. "Probable cause for more crimes against Autobot High Command concerning the custody of the femme is at hand. What will you bring forth for your defense?" Ratchet averted his optics from the Prime, staring at the floor in front of him, clearing his throat.

"Considering the evidence, I guess there is no point in denying my guilt and I will willingly take whatever punishment you deem suitable, sir." He stated flatly before looking up again. "Still, I would like to ask for mitigation for the youngling."

"Justify your request." Prime rumbled, leaning back in his chair with his fingers laced. I glared at the huge red and blue mech, but I shuddered and turned away again when our optics met. When Ratchet's voice sounded again, it sounded much softer than before.

"She does not deserve to be punished. She is an innocent sparkling and if there is anyone to blame for her misbehavior, it is me." I knew that wasn't entirely the truth, but I didn't dare to pipe up again, listening quietly instead. I just didn't quite understand why Ratchet would always try to take the blame for my deeds, although I must say I was grateful for it.

"It is commonly known among everyone present that her self awareness exceeds the standard levels for sparklings of her age and that she is therefore to be held completely responsible for her actions. Do you intend to suggest she was not aware of the consequences?" Prowl said icily.

"No, sir." Ratchet replied. "But I can say that, considering the circumstances of her... safekeeping... her actions have been absolutely plausible."

"What are ya talkin' about?" Ironhide drawled, crossing his arms above his broad black chest.

"With all due respect, I do not concur with the way she is being kept here. She is the only femme we have encountered in the past four thousand stellar cycles, and should therefore enjoy every kind of protection the Autobots can provide."

Prime spoke up again, his smooth baritone strong enough to be felt through the fine vibrations of the floor. "The youngling _is_ being protected."

"If by 'protection' you mean imprisonment, torture and the prospect of unwilling impregnation in the near future, that may be true, but... frag it, Prime, you can't-"

"Silence!" The huge commander shouted at the medic, but regained his composure quickly, clearing his throat audibly. "Your point is?"

"Sir, I recommend putting her on low security and leaving her alone until she is older. Of age, at least."

"Low security?" Prowl snorted. "So she can escape again?"

"So there's no reason for her to have to escape." Ratchet said quietly but venomously before he looked at me, a worried expression displayed on his face. "Please, she is just a sparkling."

"A sparkling with responsibilities not only to the Autobots, but to our entire race." I opened my mouth to protest, but Ratchet gave me a strict look, shaking his head and I decided to trust him on this one.

"The situation _we_ are in now is not _her_ fault, _Prowl_." Ratchet snapped at the other officer, but Prime interrupted the banter before it had even started.

"Enough." The Autobot commander stood up imposingly, bracing his hands on the table's surface. "Prowl is right. She does have responsibilities and it is our duty to keep her here with us, in safety. Aiding with her escape is treason." Very slowly, he moved around the tables to approach Ratchet and me, baring his teeth dangerously as he spoke. He was holding something in his hand, black and longish, but I couldn't quite make out what it was. No matter what he was holding however, the sight of Prime walking into my direction made the components in my stomach churn painfully while time itself seemed to freeze. Luckily though, he didn't seem to pay me much attention. "Are you a traitor, Ratchet? Have you forgotten about your oath?"

"How could I ever forget." Ratchet murmured, cringing when the bigger Autobot came to stand in front of him and tilted his head up by pressing the tip of the black rod beneath his subordinates chin. I could see the fear in Ratchet's optics, how he shivered before his commander.

"Yes, how could you. Remember where your place is, _medic_." After glaring at me briefly, Prime removed the rod from the green mech's chin forcefully and returned to his seat. I exhaled, glad to have some distance between that horrible mech and myself again. Still, the atmosphere remained very tense. "Chief Medical Officer Ratchet, you will feel the whip for your disobedience. Fifty lashes, as soon as this trial has ended. Also, I hereby deprive you of Alpha's custody, who shall be transferred to room 101 after her punishment until a suitable dwelling has been established. Dismissed." I stared at Prime with wide optics after he had pronounced his judgment, not only because of my own punishment, but also because of Ratchet's. As much as I feared the torture and room 101, I didn't want Ratchet to be whipped just because he had helped me. When one of the guards started to drag me towards the door, I started thrashing and yelling.

"NO! Don't! Let go of me! Prime, you fucking ba- ngh!" The guard had pressed his hand over my mouth firmly to prevent me from insulting his leader any more, his other arm getting slung around my waist to keep me from struggling. He was holding me to his front so tightly I thought he would dent my mid section.

"I will take care of you later, personally. Prowl." Prime stated kind of indifferently while handing the black rod to the dark silver and black mech to his right, who grinned and activated it; a long, blazing tail extended from its end, reaching down to the floor like a thin and crackling waterfall of energy. Ratchet twitched when he caught sight of it, but didn't even attempt to move away. I only saw him twisting backwards a little, careful not to lose his equilibrium so he could watch me being dragged out of the room, flashing me a quick and sad smile.

XXXXXXXXXX

Darkness. Again. And cold. I shivered as the last remains of the freezing, salty water dripped off my frame and onto the pitch black floor. I could hear the single droplets, the little tip- tap of their impacts. My optics were barely online as I panted, but they could have very well been completely offline since I couldn't even make out the hint of a light ray in the absolutely dark room. I didn't feel like I'd be able to stay conscious much longer- my head was spinning dizzily as I lay there on the bitterly cold floor, trying to curl up to keep myself a little warm at least, in vain. At least I knew where the door was this time... I believed. My processor was aching too badly to form coherent thoughts though, let alone a sense of orientation.

I groaned weakly. My neural system was still throbbing from the electrical irritation, sending pulse after pulse of liquid fire through my limbs and making my fuel pump heave irregularly. Was this how I could expect my very long life to be? Would I always be alone in the dark, scared and in pain? Now, I probably wouldn't even be allowed to see Ratchet, who had proved to somewhat care about me, anymore, not even when I got out of this terrible cell. But considering he was the only fully trained medic here... so if I got myself hurt somehow... no, not now. I was too weak, too tired to make any plans at the moment, my only wish being to be able to recharge peacefully, which of course was impossible in these surroundings. I don't know how long I lay there, shivering and whimpering gently before the long and exhausting torture finally took its toll and I lost consciousness.

When I woke up, most of the pain had subsided and there were two large bottles of energon in front of me, illuminating themselves with their inviting pink glow. I didn't have the energy to stand up on my own, not without something in my reach to pull myself up with, and so I crawled over and grabbed the nearest bottle sluggishly, straining quite a bit to get it open. I spilled a few drops when I began drinking, but it was something else that made me stop after a few sips.

A noise, small and mechanical, coming from the ceiling. I didn't expect to actually see anything, but looked up nevertheless. Silence. I shivered. Maybe it had just been a camera... infrared, most likely. Of course, it would have been absolutely useless otherwise. Yes, that had to be it- or not? Slowly, I scooted forwards until my hand hit a wall, dragging the energon with me. I sat down with my back to the cool vertical surface, clutching the bottles to myself. Was I being watched, could the Autobots see my every move? Or was there something else in the cell besides myself? There it was again. A little hum, alongside a few clicking noises. If the room had been alight, if I could have seen my surroundings, I probably wouldn't have noticed it because it was just that quiet, but with the total absence of further stimuli, it was as distinct as a Jackson Pollock amongst a collection of baroque pictures.

I shook my head, deciding it would be better to not think of art right now since I knew it would only leave me even more depressed than I already was. But unfortunately, my subconscious was faster than the sensible part of my processor, letting me think not only of art, but also of the many options of the noises real origin. Considering the sound, my imagination became more horrifying and vivid by the second until I shook my head firmly, insistently telling myself to stop. I was probably just imagining it, yes, my processor lacked data to compute and so it pretended to have perceived something. However, when I heard it again, I couldn't stop myself from curling up defensively.

"Leave me alone!" I called, but there was no reaction to my muffled voice. One thing was sure though: if the cold and the darkness didn't manage to keep me awake, those noises certainly would.

I didn't have a way to measure time, but I could tell it took quite a while until it let itself be heard again. A few hours at least. Still, whatever it was, it had me on the brink of insanity. My legs started to hurt from the cramped position they were constantly being held in, but I didn't dare to move from my cowering position next to the wall. I wouldn't be able to fight back in case it attacked me. I clutched my legs to my chest even tighter, no matter how much they were aching already. The Autobots wouldn't let anything hurt me to the point where I would offline permanently, would they? After all, even if I wished it weren't like that, they depended on me, somehow, and that would safe my life in the end, even if it meant I would be miserable. Right? But now, I didn't want to die. I wanted to live, live in freedom. If I survived, that was certain, there would always be a next opportunity to escape, although I couldn't say I was so sure I could manage to do so on my own.

However... Chelsea had died because she had helped me, Nwym and Rokin had died for the same reason. Ratchet had been whipped, had suffered because of me. I had never wanted anyone to get hurt because of me. I wouldn't drag anyone into this anymore, too many had already paid the price for my naivety and I couldn't bear any more of this. But I also couldn't bear this imprisonment, the constant fear and tension... I stayed awake for a very long time, fighting off recharge the best I could, staring into the empty space before me stiffly. The noise hadn't returned, even though I expected it to do so at any moment. At some point of time, I just toppled over to my side when the tiredness beat me.

My recharge was cut short when the door was opened, blinding light overcharging my optical sensors briefly before it shut again. The sleepy confusion vanished quickly to make room for simple fear: I wasn't alone anymore. Like humans, Cybertronians never stood completely still and I could clearly hear metal shifting silently, vents working in a calm manner, warmth radiating off a frame that must have dwarfed mine. I gasped and froze in place when I looked up only to have cold, blue optics staring back at me...

**I know, evil cliffhanger. Please review anyway!**


	12. Society

**I'm aliiive!**

**Transformers belongs to Hasbro/ Takara**

**The Dark Horizon**

**Chapter 12: Society**

For an unbearably long time, I didn't move. I wouldn't have known where to anyway. This was the furthest I could get away from him, cowering at this demon's feet, moving meant getting even closer. All I could see of him were his bright optics several meters above me, he couldn't have seen more of me either. What was he doing here? My spark clenched painfully in anxiety, but still I didn't move, I just kept staring at his optics while he was staring back into mine. When the optics lowered, meaning he was most likely bending over in the (to him) very narrow room to grab me, my legs eventually responded to my screaming instincts to get away from, or behind him. I didn't get far though, not even to the other side of the room since I stumbled over one of his large feet and his hand found me immediately. I struggled, cussed and shrieked as he lifted me up to and against his chest before pressing my back into the wall.

"Let me down, damnit! What are you-" I was silenced by a big pair of metal lips crushing my mouth. I screamed into the firm kiss while confusion, horror and disgust formed a terribly unsettling mix swirling about in my processor. The situation reminded me of the nightmare I'd had a few nights ago almost too much so there was a little glimmer of hope that this was a dream also. I didn't wake up, though. The terrifying sensation of his mouth massaging mine, nipping at my lips and licking in between lasted way too long and I was somewhat relieved when Prime finally broke the kiss.

Coughing and spitting, I tried to get his taste out of my mouth desperately, although that should prove to be the least of my concerns right now. He hadn't pulled away completely, instead nuzzling my cheek with his broad nose with disturbing gentleness. I couldn't do much more than turn my head away since I was trapped between his body and the wall, even my hands were pinned above my head now because I had been scratching and punching at his chest, trying to dig my claws deep into his systems, to rip some wires out, to scratch the protoform, anything just to hurt him so he would stop while my legs were immobilized by his weight pressing me against the solid wall.

"You're such a feisty little femme." He chuckled, holding my arms in place with one hand while the other started straying, much to my increasing distress.

"Fuck you!" He pressed a little, mocking kiss to my cheek while his free hand came to rest on my hip.

"Oh, believe me, I would if you were just a little older... but unfortunately, your systems couldn't even handle a full code transfer yet without being severely damaged and we don't want that to happen, hm?" I jerked violently in his tight embrace in a futile attempt to escape him, but that only made my body rub against his upper torso, accidentally arousing him further. A deep, content purr rumbled from his throat, I could feel the heavy vibrations spreading across his chest armor. A choked wail was ripped from my own vocalizer when his tongue was dragged up the side of my face slowly, leaving a disgusting path of cool lubricant. I pressed my optics shut tightly so I didn't have to endure the sight of his blue orbs staring at me hungrily anymore, wishing that he would just disappear alongside my vision of his optics in the darkness. But of course that was nonsense.

"Ah, it's been way too long. However, I must admit you do taste delicious..."

"Just leave me alone... please..." I sobbed more than anything. This was a nightmare... it was all just a terrible, terrible nightmare, it _had_ to be.

"I had expected more of a fight from you." I was crying openly now, shaking miserably in the huge mech's strong hold, who seemed to enjoy my distress quite a bit. "I've kind of been looking forward to our next argument. You're so cute when you're angry..."

"You sick bastard..." He laughed quietly with his cheek guard rubbing up against the side of my head.

"Ah, you're still so young, so inexperienced. But..." The hand that had been kneading my hip slapped down on my bottom sharply, making me gasp in shock and pain. The sting wasn't exactly lessened by the squeezing afterward and definitely not by his fingertips brushing over my covered, untouched port. I inhaled sharply, being hit by a fresh wave of fear and extreme dislike of the large Autobot. "...in time, you will learn to appreciate my affections." I wanted to scream at him, to let him feel how much I despised him, how I would have loved to polish his smug face with a rusty chainsaw and yet I found myself unable to express any of my murderous intentions, merely wailing and choking in his terrifying embrace. After he had let me know how he was looking forward to our next encounter and pressed another unwanted kiss to my cold and unresponsive lips, he finally left again with an awfully good mood, disappearing into the painfully bright light.

So there I was, shivering and crying on the floor. This had been a highly disturbing event. Not only had I expected a... different reaction to my escape from the Prime, I also wouldn't have thought he would do something like _this_. After all, it seemed, he was indeed a sick pervert. I was confused, though. Why had he done that? Why had he just come here? Just to feel me up? I could imagine what he would have liked to do, he'd said it himself. I shuddered with disgust. I was absolutely mortified by the thought of him forcing me to partake in such activities, was remembering his closeness only moments ago with dread. He wouldn't _ever_ get _that_ from me, not if I could help it. However, I really had no idea how to escape this fate right now. What hadn't I tried? I had to do this on my own, though...

I curled up in a tight ball in the darkness to try and shut the rest of the world out. I didn't want to be anywhere around these fucking Cybertronians anymore... I just wanted to be back home with my parents, to be human, one amongst billions. I didn't want everyone to be after me. But I would never live in such peace again; I would always be on the run, would always have to fear to be caught. Would I be able to withstand that incredible pressure? If I just weren't so alone... but no, I wouldn't let anyone friendly enough to help me be harmed anymore. Not even Ratchet, no, certainly not Ratchet. My first days here left aside, he had treated me... nicely, at least compared to everyone else. And exactly that was the reason why I decided I should keep away from him, although I doubted Prime would allow 'unnecessary' contact between the two of us anyways after the last failed escape.

It was strange actually that on the one hand I had kept my generally peaceful nature while bearing so much hatred towards Prime. Disturbingly, the thought of him being in pain, of his features twisting in mortal agony, of his body being torn to shreds did indeed appeal to me. I tried to ban those cruel fantasies from my processor, but it was in vain. I _hated_ Optimus Prime. I wanted him to suffer... and it was his fault alone. His presence had brought out the worst in me, something dark and menacing... it scared me. I was not evil and I didn't want to be. I despised people who enjoyed someones affliction and I feared becoming one of them without me noticing. I sniveled softly, grabbing my head while the only thing I could pour out my grief to was the cruel darkness all around me...

XXXXXXXXXX

It hadn't been too long ago that I had wished I would never have to feel like this again. I felt empty, wasn't able to even think anymore. It had been... I didn't know how long since I had last seen some light and it didn't matter if I was awake or asleep, it was all the same. Nothing mattered anymore, not where I was, how much time had passed. The future, the past... I wouldn't even have cared now if Prime had just burst in to grope me or worse... and maybe he even had, I probably wouldn't even have _noticed_ it. The door _had_ been opened a few times though...

If the noise that had scared me so once was still there or not... I didn't care, didn't listen anymore and with my thoughts and emotions, the ghastly pictures of hostile creatures lingering in the dark vanished. Everything was just dull darkness, devoid of any thoughts or feelings... there was nothing. _I_ was nothing.

And then, one day (or night), the door was finally opened. Like every time, I was blinded by the light. Someone seemed to urge me on so I would get up and walk, guided by whoever it was, but I didn't even react. What was he saying? It was too loud to understand...

Finally, I was picked up and carried somewhere. Where to didn't matter. Away from the dark and the cold. But now darkness and cold didn't sound so bad anymore... my optics my audios and processor, everything hurt. The world was too bright, too loud and way too hot for me to feel comfortable anymore. I got angry, somehow. I wanted to be left in my cell where I could dwell in the nothingness for the rest of eternity, where I couldn't be bothered, not even if someone I used to hate came to visit. I didn't act in any way, however. Did it take long until I was placed on a terribly soft surface? Who cared. Faintly, I felt a little sting to my neck and then, nothing.

XXXXXXXXXX

I woke with a terrible headache. Keeping my optics closed, I rolled over and groaned, burying my face in the pillow beneath my shoulders and head- wait. My hand gripped said pillow and I gave it a firm squeeze to confirm it was really a soft, big cushion. I opened my optics reluctantly and was somewhat surprised to actually see something other than eternal darkness, even if I didn't really like it. I was lying on a comfortable, spacious bed in a medium sized room which, besides the bed, was fitted with a table, a stool, an armchair, a mirror and a small cabinet.

However, I was not alone. There was a long row of buzzing security bars parting the room at the door side, leaving enough room for a large mech to comfortably walk in the space between the bars and the next wall and there, in the corner, on a massive chair, Ironhide was sitting. He was watching me while polishing some kind of silver shotgun idly at the same time, the black, worn out armor on his body glistening in the dim light. I didn't dare to move, although I could tell by the way his optics lit up that he had noticed me being awake.

The old mech didn't speak, but somehow I knew he had commed someone, maybe I had sensed the radio waves or a slight distortion of the air... he didn't take his optics off me, it was impossible to even blink without him noticing, so I decided to just ignore the irritable mech and sit up, yawning soundlessly. My back ached after sleeping in a warm and soft bed after a long time on the floor and I pressed my hands to my lower back tensely to lessen the pain a bit. I felt like I was having a horrible hangover, when had I gotten here anyway?

I shook my head and placed it in my hands which were braced on my knees. If I only knew how to access my own processor properly... after all, if it was structured like an ordinary computer like I had read in the anatomy and hacking datapads, then why were my thoughts so disordered, so chaotic? Shouldn't I have been able to access files or programs and to store information, divided in neat folders... if I only had access to the internet. I could have made a public cry for help, via facebook for example or I could at least have found out what was going on in the world... gah.

Some time later, one of the seemingly lower ranked mechs entered and Ironhide opened the cell door for him. The white and gray bot was carrying a large tray with energon and datapads which he, without taking his wary optics off me for a single second, placed on the table before retreating. He didn't dare to turn his back on me. What, was I a serial killer now? Some dangerous convict? Then he was gone again, leaving only me and Ironhide in the room, staring at each other darkly.

"Refuel." he grumbled, motioning for the tray on the table. I looked over at the energon in question. I had to admit I was hungry, even very much so, but now that he had demanded it, I wouldn't refuel. I crossed my legs over the bed's edge and stuck my nose up in the air in a cocky manner.

"No." Surprisingly, Ironhide let the subject slide and chose to simply ignore me. He must have known I was hungry and would refuel sooner or later anyways so there was no real point in fighting over it. I huffed at the dense black mech and stood up cautiously, a little wobbly on my legs for some reason, and started to explore the new confinement.

The cabinet held nothing but an additional blanket and some hygiene supplies and so I closed its doors again quietly before stopping abruptly. An unfamiliar face was staring back at me from the rather small mirror on the wall next to it, mechanical with big blue optics, silver plating and slightly pouty lips. Slowly and with my optics interlocked with my own image's gaze, I walked over to stand in front of the mirror. For a moment I wondered whether I could have used its shards as weapons if I had broken its smooth surface, but quickly dismissed that thought since a little bit of broken glass would be no match for armored plating.

The optics in front of me, my optics, looked cold and somewhat relentless, certainly nothing like the warm, clear dark eyes I had used to call my own. It was scary, seeing this image and identifying it as myself. I shook my head heavily and put my hands on the mirror's surface so I didn't have to see my own reflection anymore. The others might have thought of me as being pretty, but I certainly didn't- not in a way I liked anyway. Feeling a little dizzy all of a sudden, I proceeded to sit back down on the bed, preparing for a long and uneventful stay in this new prison.

And then, I was waiting again. For what, I didn't know. Ironhide and a bot he called B.R., a blue and silvery white mech, were taking turns guarding me for a while until Ironhide disappeared from the guard shifts altogether, no idea why, to be replaced with an elder but mute moss green mech. They were the ones supplying me with energon and datapads. Mentioned datapads seemed to be running out, at least those about the cybertronian language and culture had so now I was restrained to reading prehistoric novels. There wasn't anything else I could do, really. Most of those novels were quite boring, cheap rubbish written to entertain shallow- brained rednecks, pointless romances, crude adventure stories and such- I normally wouldn't have touched any of them if I hadn't been so fucking bored. One day however, I was just reading a novel called _"The Demon's Song"_ when something strange occurred.

The main character was just taking part in an incredibly dumb conversation when I suddenly read something that did certainly not belong there. ..._What do you mean, he wasn't there? Oh and by the way, your medic would like to apologize for what you've been put through. He knows a meeting will be difficult to arrange so he had to take more discreet ways to let you know. Anyways, you'll be taken to the rec room during the next days and he thought you should know he is planning something and he will arrange for you to be let in on it._ Then, the text just continued normally. I looked up from the datapad in fear someone might have noticed my vents had hitched reading it, but the guard didn't seem to have paid much attention, busily examining his fingers.

And indeed, some time later B.R. reappeared with a pair of small handcuffs and a chain attached to them. He didn't speak when he bound my wrists with them and I didn't put up much of a fight because I wanted to get out of this mockery of a private bedroom. The hallway in which the door to it was located was a particularly busy one with quite a few mechs strolling along with a leisureliness that suggested they were off duty. Some of them seemed really tired, dragging their feet over the floors lethargically, optics half closed.

As always, my presence didn't go unnoticed as I trotted along behind B.R., who was holding the chain firmly in his massive hand. Its constant rattle annoyed me, but I tried to ignore it for the sake of orientation as I didn't think I had been here before. Damn, this stupid base was way too large! After a while the floor seemed to drop down like an enormous ramp and after we had rounded a few corners the hallways started to look at least a little familiar.

I recognized the cross- way we had now reached as the one that would lead to the rec room if we turned left, but instead, B.R. turned right. That did confuse me a little. It didn't take long for us to reach a large, two- winged door, not unlike the med bay's entrance... however, from its location alone I knew we couldn't have been anywhere near Ratchet's realm and I couldn't help but be a little bit disappointed at that. It was opened and after passing through a small, empty room with white tiles on the walls, the mech in front of me opened another door and we were hit by a large gust of hot steam as we entered. I put my bound hands to my chain nervously as if preparing to yank it even if I knew it wouldn't have gotten me anywhere.

"What is this?" I tried to stop since my optics had misted over with the steam and I couldn't see, but the much stronger bot pulled me further into the room. Other bots were talking in here, I heard the cacophony of water on metal, their voices and how they moved, the sounds reflected strangely by the wet, tiled walls. I knew this was some kind of shower room even before the usually really quiet mech all but yelled through all that noise.

"You haven't had a decent wash for a while. You're anything but presentable." Slowly, I started to see again (my lenses had been heated up by now), though I instantly wished for my optics to be fogged like before instead.

There were seven, no, eight mechs in here besides B.R. and me, showering beneath the hot jets of water coming from faucets lining the walls, there were also racks with bottles of cleaning solvents at the front and back of the otherwise empty room. There was a bunch of mechs in the room. With retracted armor as in very much naked. And on top of that, certain parts were extended for the world to see so I quickly shielded my optics with my hands. Of course I knew that interface equipment would normally not be visible even in protoform mode, retracted and tucked away neatly behind moveable plates in the pelvic region to prevent injury to those sensitive parts but it seemed that, for hygienic reasons, the mechs in here had decided against such modesty. Obviously, the Autobots didn't care much about privacy. Still, I _so_ did not want to see that.

"D'aaaw, jus look at that babe, so 'shamed." Jazz snickered from my left. I looked at him warily, taking care to place my hands in my field of vision so I didn't have to look at his appendage. "C'mon sweetie, ya can look all ya want. There's muuuch ta see!" Just in that moment, the naked mech thrust his hips forward, pulling his shapely arms back at the same time in a very obscene gesture and as if that hadn't been enough, my chain was yanked again, pulling my hands from their protective position. I gave a very undignified squeak when I suddenly saw more than only a little flash of that... thing spearing the steamy air like- no! No, I didn't even want to make any comparisons or think about it in general, I just didn't want to see it anymore, but no matter where I turned my head, they were just everywhere!

When B.R. lead me to an unoccupied stall (well, there were no dividers whatsoever so it couldn't even be called that) and turned on the hot spray for me, I used the opportunity to turn my back to them immediately. They all laughed and kept joking about how I'd get used to it (note to self: perverts!) while the hot water was drumming down onto my body.

"Get going, we don't have all day!" B.R. grumbled from beside me impatiently. I didn't want to touch my own body, not even in the most sober way, not in front of them in fear they might be getting ideas.

"Hey baby, why don't you put on a little show for us?" Some unknown mech called rudely. Again, clangorous laughter. That was exactly what I did _not_ mean to do. I just wanted to get it over with so I reached up to my head automatically to wash my hair first- only to be reminded there wasn't any. These things happened frequently, to be honest. Whenever I wasn't thinking about it, I would often try to brush my hair aside like I used to do, reliving its loss along with everything else I'd ever held dear. I bit my bottom lip; I wouldn't lower myself to crying in the presence of these idiots.

I started scrubbing at my body quickly, as far as my shackles allowed it at least, taking care to not do any 'sexy' poses unintentionally. I could practically feel their stares piercing my back and to my dismay, no one seemed to even be thinking of leaving although I was pretty sure that at least some of them must have been squeaky clean by now.

I ignored their not very tactful comments, but then a flash of yellow caught my optic and I looked to my other side where Bumblebee had put his armor back into place and seemed to be in a hurry to leave. Before he reached the door however, he received a hard slap to the aft by one of the other mechs. I expected him to turn around and snap at the taller bot, but all he did was tensing up his already stiff frame further and stopping for a short moment before proceeding out of the door hastily without saying a thing. The mech who had slapped him turned to the one beside himself to whisper something to his comrade who smirked mischievously in return before they both headed out after the yellow scout. I frowned. This was kinda confusing, and creepy though I didn't really know what to make of it. Finally I was let out of the shower again, to the disappointment of Jazz and the others and after being dried off in the first room (which turned out to be a massive blow- dryer), we were on our way to the rec room.

XXXXXXXXXX

"... and then that 'con was, like, oh slag, you know when they get that crazy look in their optics, and the next moment his face was, like, covered in all that organic goo!" The black bot to my right prattled drunkenly, taking another sip from his cube but spilling quite a bit on his chest. "And when we laughed at him he, like, got so mad he started firin' all over the place. But you know, we got them outnumbered and they were kinda losing the battle and so that flyboy, you know, the blue one, Thundercracker kinda, like, dragged him off. Haha!" The drunken mech, I think his name was Dropoff or something like that, started to laugh hysterically, banging his fist on the table. I frowned at him. Why was I here again?

"Hey youngling, don't make a face like that." Another one of the lower ranked mechs sitting across from me drawled, extending his cube of heady reeking high grade to me which I would certainly not even consider to touch. "Here, that'll help ya relax."

"Don't you even think about it!" I looked up hearing that familiar voice, my optics widening in recognition. Ratchet! I wanted to jump up and hug- no, I didn't want to hug him, just... I didn't know, shake hands maybe. Yes, shaking hands sounded good, but the chain that was now fastened to one of the table's legs stopped me. "Offering high grade to a youngling- pfft! There you go little one." The lime colored mech set down a bottle of his special, sweet energon in front of me and turned to leave again, but stopped briefly when I called out to him.

"Ratchet, wait!"

"I'm sorry kid but I'm not allowed to talk to you at the moment. Good night." With that said he left. So he'd only gotten here to bring me some fuel? Why? What was the point of this? I saw several mechs eying the medic closely as he walked out the noisy rec room again before my attention snapped back to the drunk mech beside me again when he draped his heavy arm across my shoulders, making me cringe in disgust. When I tried to push him away he planted a messy smooch on my cheek, pulling me even closer.

"Eeew, get off me you fucker!"

"Aw, come on darlin' don't be like that..."

"Leave her alone you overenergized lugnut! Don't you remember what Prime said?" B.R. said vigorously from my other side, freeing me of the obtrusive black mech. "No one is to touch her." As creepy as it sounded to me that the Autobot commander seemed to have given that order, I was actually glad it prevented Dropoff from molesting me further. Said mech grumbled irritatedly and refocused on his booze.

"Can't I just go back to my room?" I asked my guard sheepishly but he commented that we'd be staying here a little longer because I was to be integrated into Autobot society. Great. Spending the evening with a bunch of woozy idiots who didn't seem to be able to keep their hands and dirty thoughts to themselves; oh well, maybe if I just tried to ignore everyone...

I opened the bottle in front of me slowly, not because I actually felt hungry but because I wanted to appear occupied with refueling so they would leave me alone. I stopped. Something had been written on the inside of the bottle's cap in tiny, scribbled letters... I made sure no one had seen it inconspicuously before reading the secret message. _Look beneath the armchair._ I blinked and wiped my thumb across the damp surface to smear the script so no one would be able to identify the words anymore. Ratchet, you canny old rascal. Acting as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, I started downing my fuel slowly.

XXXXXXXXXX

Of course I couldn't just head straight for the armchair when I was brought back to my room late at night if I didn't want to get Ratchet and myself into even more trouble than we already were in, so I went to my bed first to wait for B.R.'s relief, although I didn't recharge. When I knew his shift must have been coming to an end, I stood up again, complaining about my inability to recharge before slumping down in the armchair with the datapad I had started earlier that day. For a while, I just sat there, reading quietly when I heard the telltale click of the door opening. To my surprise, it was Bumblebee stepping in, or more like limping in, although I couldn't spot any blast marks across his frame like I thought he would normally have borne had there been a Decepticon attack, but I didn't know a lot about all that military stuff so I didn't really think much of it.

I made use of the distraction he posed, quickly bending down to the side when both mechs weren't looking and grabbing the object that had been fastened to the armchair's underside loosely. It was a datapad, unsuspicious, just plain and silver like all the others on the table. Neither B.R. nor Bumblebee seemed to have noticed I had moved at all, talking quietly for a moment before the elder bot left and the scout sat down on the large chair in the corner, wincing. After he had checked on me briefly he stretched his legs out in front of me and covered his optics with his palm in a tired manner. I was certain he'd leave me alone, at least for now. I activated the new datapad silently and waited for the text to appear on the screen. I smiled softly after reading the first few lines.

_Dear Alpha,_

_I have programmed this datapad to react to your energy signature so no one but you will be able to use it properly; to anyone else it will just be another novel. Still, I don't recommend handing it to anyone else, just to be safe. There is a little dataport at the left side, you can connect to it via the small cable you can pull out from your left wrist but watch out, don't get yourself caught transcribing information to it. This way we can at least communicate. I took care to let the datapad send only encrypted messages to my commlink. If you've got any questions don't hesitate to ask. Don't try anything inconsiderate though, I'm trying to figure something out._

_Ratchet_

I deactivated the datapad for now without sending any messages in return. I had much to think about.

**OMG this story is really getting to me O_o I feel like I'm going insane somehow... but I won't stop writing this, it has become way too important to me...**


	13. Shared Pain Is Doubled

**I noticed the soundtrack from Leon The Professional goes quite well with this story...lol.**

**Transformers belongs to Hasbro/ Takara **

**The Dark Horizon**

**Chapter 13: Shared Pain Is Doubled**

I glared up darkly at the tall mech as he leaned against the solid bars lazily, his grin arrogant as ever. I'd hoped I wouldn't have to see him again this soon but he'd obviously not intended to leave me alone for long but it was not without some satisfaction that I noticed some deep scratches on his left lower arm; even though I knew it was anything but a serious injury, considering he hadn't even bothered to consult Ratchet before he paid me a visit.

"... still, it seems you have somewhat calmed. It's exhausting to always be the hunted one, don't you think my dear?" he said in a mocking, gentle tone while lacing his fingers in front of the bars. I shifted in my armchair uncomfortably and pulled my drawn up legs closer to my chest. Not that I wanted him anywhere nearby but I was actually grateful for the barrier the bars posed, no matter how they would absolutely not be able to stop the Prime if he really wanted to get to me.

"Whatever." I murmured indifferently. What did that big oaf even want? Optimus had just sauntered in maybe ten minutes ago only to start this pointless conversation, well, more like a monologue really, designedly only to annoy me. I hadn't dared snap at him though since I didn't want to ruin his apparently so good mood; I knew he'd make me suffer again if I did. Still, the silent rage kept building up inside me by the second as he blabbered on about what seemed to be one of his favorite subjects: how unreasonable I was always being and how everything would be so much easier if I would just collaborate. I let him talk his mouth fuzzy, intending to follow my initial plan of simply ignoring him. What he said next however sent cold shivers down my spine.

"Hm, you're such an impolite youngling but we'll change that. Soon, my dear Alpha, very soon you'll be mine. I'm honestly looking forward to it." That did it!

"Fuck off!" His grin disappeared. I slapped my hand down on my mouth- oh why couldn't I ever shut up! As soon as he moved to open my cell door, I jumped up and shoved the armchair to the cabinet's side so I could hide atop it. Of course it would be to no avail in the end but, well. The Prime slammed the door shut behind himself and marched over to me, optics glowing nearly white and mouth drawn into a thin, tense line.

"Fuck off, huh?" He growled as he plucked me from the cabinet with little to no effort and pinned me down on my bed. "You should know better than to insult your leader, at least by now." He was bent over me, restricting me to the bed's surface with his massive chest, breathing down my neck quite literally. I tried to punch him in the face but my fists were caught midair and secured in his iron grip. I probably wouldn't even have dented his chin anyways. With a quite sizable amount of disdain, I noticed how for the first time I could in fact smell him- with his body so close to mine, my olfactory sensors easily picked up the scent of a strong, healthy, male Cybertronian; certainly my senses were slowly being altered, maturing to the fine calibrations of a grown bot. I didn't like that realization one bit.

"You're _not_ my leader." Instead of replying straight away, he first pressed a brutal kiss to my firmly closed lips and I keened into his mouth while trying to squirm away from beneath him, but he wouldn't have any of that. Words couldn't describe how glad I was when our lips disconnected again.

"Oh, am I not? I bet your programming tells otherwise..." I screamed and fought with renewed vigor when a large hand was pressed between my legs forcefully.

"No! Please- don't!" His palm rubbed up against my groin firmly while he nipped on the cables of my neck; it felt just plain horrible and my inability to move just added to my panic, no, mortal fear. I just couldn't stop him! I wailed and screeched in distress, loud enough to be heard all the way down the hallway for certain but I knew no one would come to help me; no one would dare attack the Prime.

"Don't worry. This will only be a small taste of what is to come in merely a few weeks." And just in that moment when he attempted prying away the sensitive plates covering my port, the door opened and Prowl stumbled in.

"Sir!" The black and silver mech seemed uncharacteristically hectic, vents working furiously. Prime sighed in an annoyed manner.

"What! Can't you see I'm busy!" the higher ranked mech barked angrily at the intruder.

"Sir, we've got an incoming communication from the Decepticons. We need you in the command center right now!"

"Is it really _that_ important?"

"Sir... it's Megatron _himself_. He's requesting to speak to you personally." Blue optics narrowed in a dark glare as that name was mentioned before Prime released me to meet his enemy's request; I scrambled away from the offending bot quickly, pressed my back against the wall behind the bed and hissed, shivering. The red and blue Autobot looked back at me briefly, leaving together with his SIC. My shoulders sagged after they left and I buried my face in my hands, sobbing. I simply ignored it when the guard, who had been waiting outside, slipped back into the room and took a seat in the corner again.

XXXXXXXXXX

My left side was turned away from Ironhide (he had returned to guard me several hours ago) so he couldn't see that my wrist cable was plugged into the datapad in my lap. As soon as I had established the physical connection, a precise tutorial had appeared on the screen on how to transfer data; it appeared Ratchet knew I wasn't actually acquainted with all that robo- brain crap. Alright. So I was supposed to relax and try not to think about anything for a moment because my thoughts were most likely preventing me from accessing my processor in the required way... damn it all! How was I supposed to silence my thoughts with all the turmoil going on in my head? I didn't have time, nor was I in the mood for that crap! But I had to at least try. I took a deep breath (figuratively) and tried to concentrate, but... my brain felt just as always, there didn't seem to be a computer of any kind! I frowned in anger when I didn't accomplish anything after maybe an hour of trying and only my wish to not draw unnecessary attention kept me from growling. But there... the datapad seemed to react to my agitation- the screen blurred the moment my fury hit its peak. I tried to do it again but the sudden ray of hope didn't really let me get angry like before.

Wait... don't think of anything at all for a moment... my optics unfocused and after a while I imagined sinking deep into my consciousness, so deep I blanked out everything around me and then it felt like I was somehow... outside of my own mind. That was when I realized it didn't work like handling an ordinary computer, the structure was not all that different but the access... was deep down in my subconsciousness. The cybertronian words for _"protocols initiated"_ came to my mind and I was back in my cell again; the datapad's screen had changed.

A small glyph was blinking at the top. I had managed the first step. Now to write... I knew I had to think of the words actively (whatever that was supposed to mean) to make them appear on the screen, although I thought it would have been rather unwise to write anything important straight away in case that damned thing didn't work and the message was intercepted...

_Does this work_ *send* I twitched. I hadn't even meant to do this right now...

_Yes it does _Ratchet replied immediately. This was... oh.

_Ratchet..._ *send* Fuck, I was thinking of sending the messages way too quickly...

_Yes?_ I concentrated. First write, then send. Okay.

_I need to get away from here._ I took care not to think about sending before I had finished composing the sentence but it was a tad difficult so the words didn't come quickly.

_I know. I'm planning something._

_Please hurry... I'm really scared of Prime... but you must not let them trace it back to you, I need to do this on my own._

_What do you mean, on your own?_

_If they know you're involved, they'll hurt you again._ I wrote slowly as my spark got just a tad heavier. I was practically hindering Ratchet in helping me for his own sake- I must have been insane.

_Don't worry about me; they need both of us, they will not hurt me too badly even if they find out._ There was a pause before he wrote again. _Besides, the plan should work out._

_Just like the last one?_ I asked, but regretted it almost instantly. It hadn't been Ratchet's fault I had been captured again. _Sorry._

_Don't apologize. If it's anyone's fault, it's mine. I frowned._

_Why?_ he didn't answer to that.

_You should check the datapad regularly, I'll send you a message on what to do soon._ I looked up. The door had opened, it was probably the end of Ironhide's shift. The sight of Bumblebee entering however made me tense up a little. I had reasons to believe there was something odd about how he interacted with everyone else, considering the strange occurrences I had witnessed the past days. I somehow started to believe he hadn't always been this quiet and hostile, maybe he had indeed been a bubbly and friendly young mech at some point of time... from the corner of my optic, I watched Ironhide get up, walk up to the still open door and stand in front of the much younger mech. Bumblebee tilted his head a little and looked down, muttering a quiet request for Ironhide to clear the path. I was kind of shocked when black hands grasped a yellow aft and the scout was pulled against the weapons specialist none too gently.

"In my quarters. When your shift ends." The intimidating black mech growled into his victim's audio huskily, Bumblebee nodded stiffly.

"Y- yes, sir." The yellow bot was shivering like mad after he had been released and Ironhide was gone, the door slammed shut. I stared at the young mech. Had that really just happened? I yelped in shock as Bumblebee's fist suddenly connected to the door with a loud bang before he stomped over to the chair to flop down there. He refused to even look into my general direction. I shifted uncomfortably, not really knowing what to do. On the one hand, I knew this bot had more often than not played a vital role in capturing me again and again, that Nwym probably had died by his hands, but on the other hand... he seemed to be one of the Autobot society's victims, something we had in common.

I somehow felt sorry for him and I wanted to comfort him, maybe it were my mother instincts kicking in (if Cybertronians had something akin to that), maybe it was because he looked smaller and younger than most mechs here, but I didn't have a clue on how to approach him... I didn't even know how I would have liked to be approached in that situation although I had the ill feeling that I would soon find out...

So for a long time, we both just sat there mutely with me watching the yellow bot who wouldn't regard me with so much as a short glance, his arms crossed over his chest. Well, maybe I had jumped to conclusions- but no, it couldn't be. After all, if I added up everything leading to that assumption they were doing what I thought they were to Bumblebee and that were quite a bunch of incidents by now... oh my god. Still, maybe if I acted cleverly now, I'd win him over as an ally and that would certainly not be so bad...

"Hey, um, Bumblebee?"

"What!" He snapped aggressively. I thought it was a good idea to just remain calm nevertheless; I didn't want to fight with him after all.

"I... uh... I've seen how everyone has been treating you lately and... um... I don't think it's right." The centers if his optics narrowed as he turned to stare at me.

"Just shut up. It's none of your business." I shifted into a more upright position in my seat, kneading my knuckles awkwardly.

"I just... thought I could-"

"SHUT UP OKAY!" He looked away again, mouth quivering bitterly. I sighed. This was going to be one hard piece of work, if I managed to somehow break through to him at all that was. Luckily, he was on guard duty frequently during the next days (though it didn't look like he was actually fond of that) so I had enough opportunities to watch him further. Still, he just wouldn't talk to me. I decided to keep an optic on him, trying to talk to him every now and then, which used to end with him either shouting at me or ignoring me altogether.

Sometimes, when I would be taken to the rec room by one of the other guards, I would see him scurry out of the room as soon as he spotted me. Then there was this mech, I think he was called Tokeion, who, after watching me for quite a while, kept asking quite audibly where "the bee" was until someone else told him Bumblebee would be out on patrol for the next five hours which resulted in Tokeion displaying his disapproval of this information by kicking the table he was seated at and leaving the room, muttering cybertronian curses. Others kept shooting him ambiguous glances.

Bumblebee himself seemed somewhat depressed, or rather caught in an increasing spiral of boiling distress. It was one evening (no, I didn't really know what time of day it really was) when he was staring at the door mutely with his back turned to me after he had been molested by Ironhide once again that I finally succeeded in making him talk to me.

"Bumblebee?" I spoke to him softly, putting my datapad aside and standing up soundlessly. His fists at his sides tightened hard enough to look painful. "I... I'm sorry. Really. I know what it must be like for you and-"

"You know nothing at all. Nothing." He said quietly, bitterly, still not moving from his spot in front of the door. I frowned while stepping closer to him.

"Bumblebee... I know what they're doing to you. You should know what I'll probably have to endure soon more than-"

"SHUT UP!" He suddenly yelled, whirling around and smashing his fists into the metal bars between us. I jumped at his violent reaction, but didn't retreat. "It's your fault!" He hissed at me from behind the bars. "It's your fault it's gotten worse. That they're getting ideas!"

"... ideas?" After a long and awkward pause, a raspy, sarcastic laugh escaped his vocalizer as he looked me up and down rudely.

"Primus, you really _are_ a sparkling. Can't you imagine what a bunch of mechs who haven't seen a living femme up close for centuries might think of when they see you?" I looked up at him silently, catching a little spark of... something flickering across his baby blue optics. "They see you walking along the corridors, wriggling that little aft of yours- who do you think they're taking it out on? What do you think!"

"But why? Why you? There are so many other bots here..." Bumblebee looked like he was going to explode for a moment, but then his shoulders sagged and he moved to stand with his back against the wall, the one opposite to the chair, looking incredibly tired all of a sudden.

"I don't want to talk about it, fe- Alpha. Just leave me alone..." I moved closer to him carefully.

"Bumblebee... I can see how tormented you are. I admit I... don't know you very well but I know that no matter how bad it gets, it's even worse if you don't have anyone to talk to." I paused. "I'm here. I'm listening, Bumblebee." He shook his head slowly. I bet he really didn't have anyone who would listen and understand... "Come on... tell me. I won't judge you, I promise. Tell me why." He hesitated and I already thought the conversation had ended with his silence when he suddenly spoke up weakly.

"...because I've got a modification... one which no one else here has. You see... mechs cannot interface with each other like a mech and a femme can. They're not built for it." He whispered quietly. His now dim optics closed, he lowered his head.

"Then why did you get this... modification... in the first place?"

"There was... a mech... I loved him. And I thought he loved me. It was before all the femmes disappeared and it wasn't that uncommon for a mech to get the mods and... he said he'd love me even more if we could... could..." He buried his face in his hands which were rough from battle and hard work as his frame started shivering with his sobs. He looked absolutely miserable.

"... and then he ditched you." I finished quietly, he nodded and slid down the wall to sit on the floor, a bright yellow, feeble heap. I sat down at the other side of the bars. It was no surprise how he acted around everyone then and although we had never been on good terms in the past, I now felt great sympathy for the young mech. To be honest, I even felt bad for treating him like I had, even if I had done it just to save myself from further harm. "Can't it be reversed? Couldn't Ratchet do something about it?"

"He's not allowed to. Prime said, he said it was good for the troops' morale. That I was to keep it. He said that sometimes sacrifices must be made for the greater good."

"That's so typical for that motherfucker." Bumblebee looked up at me, somewhat alarmed.

"You shouldn't talk about him like that. I- if anyone hears it..."

"You're afraid of him." I stated, half surprised. Bumblebee might have acted haunted and angry around the others, but the outright fear lacing his voice when he spoke of his leader now seemed like an increase to that.

"You're not?" I fell silent at that. Yes, I did fear the Prime, but that didn't mean I would stop fighting him. The yellow mech beside me sighed as he straightened his legs on the floor in front of him. "Almost everyone is. His power is greater than you can imagine. But he's..." The next part was only whispered and I almost had to press my head against the bars to hear it at all. "...he's a tyrant."

"Why didn't you join the Decepticons, then?"

"Are you insane?" He hissed. I twitched visibly at his sudden change of volume. "The Decepticons are even worse! They're absolutely mad, all of them! For them, it's not enough just to kill you, nooo, they'll torture you, rip you apart circuit for circuit just to hear you scream in agony! They open up their victim's fuel lines and drink their energon for pleasure! They're disgusting, uncivilized beasts!" To me, his description of the Decepticons sounded a lot like the Autobots, but I didn't make any witty remarks for I didn't want to upset the scout. I was pretty sure he was exaggerating anyway, I couldn't imagine the Decepticons being so much worse than the Autobots after all. We both fell silent after his little rant about the opposite faction.

I was pretty sure he was one of the youngest bots on earth (well, he was much older than me but still) and yet whenever he talked I could hear such coldness in his voice, such resignation... he must have endured terrible, terrible things in his life. He leaned back against the wall nervelessly like he had just returned from a day of real hard work. After a short internal battle I thought it was save enough to reach between the bars (thankfully there weren't any energy barriers like in the brig) and put my hand on his bigger one, which was now resting on his thigh. To my relief, he didn't bat me away, turning his hand over instead to grasp mine lightly.

"Can you help me, Bumblebee?" I asked softly. "Can you get me out of here?" Our optics met and I knew his answer before he even uttered it.

"No. No one can help you."

XXXXXXXXXX

I felt quite nervous today, but I tried not to show it. Last night, I had received a long and detailed description of Ratchet's plan via my modified datapad. Very soon, I would be able to make another escape attempt, one that would hopefully be successful. I walked behind B.R. like so often, we were on our way to the rec room, thankfully without paying a visit to the usually so crowded wash racks first. In just a few minutes, when we would be sitting at a table at our destination, there was going to be an outage. In the resulting brief chaos I would free myself by ripping off the chain on my wrist shackles (which Ratchet had hopefully manipulated so it would break easily as he'd told me).

Then, I would run out of the room, turn left twice, then right once and follow the corridor until I reached the storage room C-33. There, I would find a large crate beneath a big pipe which was part of the ventilation system. I would use the crate to climb up to and through the pipe's opening. If I followed it, I would sooner or later reach the main hangar, where a steel cable would be located for me to use to get down to the floor. There would be smaller ships parked alongside the mothership (Ratchet had been thoughtful enough to send me a picture of the particular ship in question), which were frequently used for long- range patrols. One of them was called "Astoria". I would open a certain flap at its right side and hide in the small space between the inbuilt rocket launchers and the fuel tank, where a parachute would be hidden, plus a bag of _'things that would come in handy'_ (whatever that was supposed to mean). The Astoria was supposed to go on patrol shortly after the appointed outage and I would just take the parachute and jump once it gained an acceptable distance to the base. Sounded crazy and I was already feeling my tanks churn sluggishly at the prospect of jumping out of a flying aircraft, but it could work. Maybe.

Time crept by incredibly slowly, but the diminishing distance between us and the rec room granted me confidence. A passing by mech wolf whistled when he saw me, but other than that I wasn't being molested for once. Not so much. I could practically hear my own spark beating despite the rec room being occupied by a bunch of loudly talking mechs, the usual reactions to my presence wouldn't be missed, of course. I felt strangely at ease all of a sudden. The lights were dimmed a little, the other bots weren't paying me that much attention and I could have some fuel (I was allowed to drink 'adult energon' by now, definitely a sign to find a way out of here as soon as possible), sitting at one of the tables with B.R. beside me. The chain was, as always, fastened to the table.

It was almost... nice, had there not been the certainty of the very much hated Prime and a lot of his idiotic and perverted lackeys hanging around somewhere in this underground building. Maybe in another reality where more femmes still existed and the Cybertronians were no endangered species, where I would be treated as an equal and not as some kind of slave it would have been possible for me to cope with the Autobots. But not like this. If it was to be like this, if I was supposed to be a victim of the Prime's arbitrariness, if I was expected to fulfill his disgusting wishes of fornication then I wouldn't remain here a single moment longer than necessary, then I would fight until the end to gain my freedom.

And then, just like that, the lights were out. Since I had only be waiting for this to happen, I was quick to react, yanking the chain hard and hearing it snap with a sharp ping. The satisfaction I felt due to my sudden (relative) freedom was quickly replaced with the rush of having to move immediately before the emergency lights were on. Some of the confused bots I left behind in the rec room had already had the brilliant idea of using the headlights of their vehicle modes, but all they could spot of me anymore was a set of swinging doors.

The mechs out in the corridors didn't even know what had just rushed past them as I ran and dodged to get to the storage room before I was discovered. My agility was probably the only advantage I had over the much bigger males and I planned to use it to its full extent. The emergency lighting had reacted by now, illuminating the corridors with a faint, reddish glow; it kinda made the atmosphere resemble a horror movie. Or a brothel. Brushing that ridiculous, immature thought aside, I turned left and ducked to skid through between a large bot's massive legs before stumbling to my almost insane speed again. I didn't have time to admire the unusual light show, I needed to get out. I turned left again. Thankfully, there was no one ahead. Good. The sounds of my metallic feet pounding the floor almost blurred due to the rapid frequency and with my limbs working so furiously, with all systems on full power, my spark beating in a frenzy, I felt so very alive, so good. I skidded around the last corner - BLAM!

I couldn't help but groan in irritation and pain after the impact had sent both me and the mech I had collided with crashing to the floor. I sat up and shook my head firmly to make my surroundings stop spinning. Ugh. Why was I here again...? Oh shit. I had ran into Prowl, of all bots. He was sitting on his aft like me, staring, certainly confused but not nearly as shaken. I got back to my now wobbly feet quickly and escaped in the opposite direction, even though I knew the storage room was probably my only hope of escaping right now. I heard Prowl chasing after me.

"Stop! Stop at once! That's an ORDER!" I had no idea where I was going, other than away from the fuming second in command that was. I cursed myself for not just running past him, but that wouldn't be changed now, would it. And now that. There seemed to be a dead end ahead. Doors, but no continuing corridor. Shit. Well, desperate times call for desperate measures and the group of soldiers with flashlights just had had bad luck. One of them, at least. The man yelped and struggled when I grabbed him (rather delicately though, I didn't want to hurt anyone after all), the others looked horrified, raising their guns at once, yelling at me. Prowl slowed down and eventually stood when he saw I had taken a human hostage. He raised his hands in a pacifying gesture.

"Calm down and let the human go." I clutched the man to my chest with one arm tight enough to make him wheeze in discomfort but not enough to actually cause any damage while my free hand was loosely wrapped around his neck.

"Please, I've got a wife and two children..." He pleaded. I ignored him, my attention belonged to Prowl. However, I admit I was kind of concerned with not hurting him unintentionally.

"He'll live if you let me pass. MOVE IT!" To my surprise, Prowl actually started backing away to make room for me.

"Easy, youngling." I stalked back into the direction of my original destination, storage room C-33, careful not to let Prowl or any of the human soldiers get out of sight. When I was past the black and white armored mech, I started walking backwards to keep an optic on him. The human felt uncomfortably warm against my frame and- had he just wet himself? I shuddered with disgust, but still I continued on. I would not let my path to freedom be blocked by a pathetic display of cowardice such as this. I could smell his sweat and urine, could feel how his organic heart was racing and how he was hyperventilating and no matter how hard I tried to not think of humans as disgusting little critters, those thoughts just kept nagging at my processor. Other mechs had already noticed the drama I was causing, they were standing in the corridor but not daring to move in fear I would crush the helpless human. Clearly, they couldn't risk being on bad terms with Earth's governments.

Almost there... I would release the human as soon as I reached the door, shove him towards Prowl and the others and run for it. The other bots would undoubtedly be too big to follow me through the ventilation system and I guessed I would be able to handle the humans... hopefully.

"NOW!" Prowl shouted. Before I could even comprehend who he was even talking to something hard and unforgiving collided with the back of my head and everything went black as I tumbled to the floor.

**As always, please review.**


	14. Ruination

**Transformers belongs to Hasbro/Takara.**

**Readers be warned: ahead lies a chapter which is one of the reasons why this story is rated M.**

**The Dark Horizon**

**Chapter 14: Ruination**

A mean ache in my processor was the first thing I became aware of and I whimpered weakly. Then, something warm and solid slipped beneath my shoulders and helped me sit up. My vision was very blurry when I opened my optics but somehow I knew who was holding me upright, even though I couldn't really see him. Ratchet. So the plan had failed and I was being treated at the med bay once again. Strangely, I didn't care at the moment; maybe it was a side effect of whatever had caused me to lose consciousness or maybe I had been drugged but somehow I didn't quite realize how severe the situation was. I leaned into his warm frame feeling quite dizzy, he didn't move.

"I'm so sorry, little one..." He stroked my aching helm with his other hand gently. I whimpered again and hid my face in the armored plating covering his chest. I wanted to be closer to that source of comfortable warmth, I was feeling so cold and so small... My optics were able to focus again by now, but I didn't care for the surroundings. All that mattered was that I was being held securely, the pure and innocent affection he made me feel and I didn't even know why. Way too quickly though, he peeled off of me to pick up an energon cube from a small bedside table beside him before gently pressing it to my lips. I didn't even object, instead I let him feed me slowly. I was hungry and that led to the question of how long I had been out, considering I had refueled just before my escape attempt. The fuel helped clear my processor and I was glad the tender moment had vanished so quickly for now I was embarrassed big time for being so... cuddly.

"What happened- whoa!" I leaned further away from him but was hit by an enormous wave of nausea and disorientation all of a sudden and if it hadn't been for Ratchet's quick reaction I would have toppled off the berth. "What the fuck?" I squeaked.

"Your equilibrium chip was damaged and I had to replace it. The new one will have to integrate into your systems first, that will take a few hours." Ratchet told me quietly. "As to what happened, I was told you received a none too gentle hit to the back of your head which knocked you out immediately. Jazz must have underestimated the force he was putting into it though because normally, there shouldn't have been any damage."

"Right." I said slowly but with a slightly annoyed tone. "Could you please let go of me now?" Ratchet jerked slightly; he was way too content with holding me to his chassis for my taste.

"Oh- of course. Sorry." The medic lowered me into the pile of pillows behind my back after adjusting them a little, careful as though he thought I might break if handled more casually. I sighed.

"Well, shit." I assessed the situation.

"You can say that again." Ratchet mumbled with a deep frown plastered on his face. He stood up rather abruptly to walk over to the door, ascertained there wasn't anyone else in the med bay who could have been eavesdropping right now before silently closing this room's door. A room which, I noticed, seemed to be a recent addition to his domain, kinda longish with several comfortable recharge berths stringed along the wall. Mine was the only occupied one at the moment though, for which I was actually very grateful. There were two doors at its end, one obviously to the med bay's main room, the other... well, it would remain a mystery for now. "I take it you noticed the additional space." I looked up at Ratchet, who was sauntering back to my side where he sat down on the white stool he had been occupying before. "I thought it would be better to have newly repaired bots recharge here for a while, makes it easier to deal with complications. I've wanted to extend the med bay years ago but with the lower levels still unfinished there just wasn't enough room."

"But no one's here. Except for me, I mean." He shrugged.

"Bumblebee left shortly before you came back online." I turned my hands over in my lap, eying them sheepishly. Stupid metal claws. Ugh.

"They keep harassing him, am I not right?" Ratchet frowned at me with unsettling disconcertment.

"You know about it?"

"I'm not blind, Ratchet. Besides, he told me himself."

"Hm." He looked away from me and at another berth, probably the one Bumblebee had vacated not too long ago, fumbling with the now empty energon cube he had just picked up. "Well, he's been here quite often lately. Poor kid hardly gets any rest. He uses to come here to pretend he needs medical attention just so he can recharge in peace. But that's not important right now. Your time is running out." I sighed deeply.

"I know. Ratchet... I'm scared." He nodded gravely, shuttering his optics for a moment.

"I think I could probably arrange one more opportunity for you in due time but if that fails..." He turned back to me. "Alpha... if the time comes, if Prime... don't fight him. If it's bound to happen... just let him do as he pleases. It's not his intention to damage you."

"How can you say that. We are talking about my body here about my... my _innocence _and presumably my sanity, too. How can you ask of me to just yield to him?"

"Please Alpha, I know you're scared but you must think of your survival above all. You will never be in any condition to get out _and _survive if you're constantly recovering from unnecessary injuries."

"I WILL NOT SURRENDER!" I shouted, ignoring the heavy wave of vertigo befalling me when I sat up abruptly. Ratchet twitched visibly and the empty cube almost slipped from his nervous fingers as he did so. After the echo had faded out, we kept staring at each other silently for a few seconds before he looked down at his hands awkwardly.

"Do you think I would like to extradite you to that monster? Primus knows he's anything but diffident when it comes to femmes. But fact is," he looked up again and the look of pure agony in his optics told me more than I wanted to know about my fate, "we must consider that it might not be possible to evade that outcome and as much as I hate to say it, in that case, you'll have to endure it for better or worse and save your strength." I sat there mutely as my pertinacity crumbled under the unbearable weight of those words and my thoughts resulting from it. Finally, I buried my face in my hands. He was right. There was still hope, but it was fading with every minute I remained in the Autobots' presence, escaping my grasp slowly but determinedly. True, I would keep fighting, but there would be losses, one way or another. But how was I supposed to ever win an unwinnable battle? Me, a mere child, an inexperienced young femme in a harsh world such as this? How could I even hope to defeat a whole horde of mechs who were stronger, older and more intelligent than I was?

"Hope is slipping from my fingers, Ratchet. There's nothing left I can hold on to. I'm alone in the dark and I cannot see the light..." A small sob escaped me before I could swallow it and when Ratchet wrapped his arms around my shivering torso, it was not embarrassment I felt. Calm and comfort seemed to come off of him in waves, lulling me into an unexplainable state of... well, I didn't even know what to call it. He was just there, so present and warm and I took what he was offering... I was feeling like a child now more than ever. I pressed closer to him.

"You'll live to see happier days, little one. Have faith, Alpha."

XXXXXXXXXX

Just as Ratchet had predicted, I slowly regained my balance over the next hours but as there wasn't anywhere to go right now, as there was nothing I could have done except remaining where I was, I tried to rest for I didn't know what tomorrow would hold for me, whether I would be free or in the Prime's clutches. Opportunities to recharge peacefully would probably be scarce either way. Ratchet himself was as always occupied with his work, checking on me every now and then. His words still lingered in my mind. I wasn't supposed to give up hope and yet I felt there was nothing I could do that would change anything about my predicament. As always, even thinking of the Prime being close to me made me sick to my tanks... I could still taste him on my lips, his heady and lingering flavor refusing to leave them. I shuddered with disgust and, I had to admit, fear- yes, I did fear him, plain and simple.

Sure it would be horrifying, violent, humiliating and excruciatingly painful. Obviously it wasn't enough for me to still be a virgin (yes, I had also been one as a human), no, the guy wanting to take my innocence also had to be a metallic warrior at least twice my size with an uncanny attitude of careless brutality. If it indeed turned out impossible for me to flee in time and prevent the abuse, would I be able to live with it? If he had ravished my body with his or if I even- god forbid- bore his offspring, would I be able to look into the mirror in my cell without feeling deep and utter disgust? Only time would tell, though I would have preferred for it not to.

Why the fuck couldn't I have been a mech like everyone else? True, I'd have to fight and sooner or later die in a catastrophic war but I guessed that would still have been a lot better than what the world had actually in store for me. I would have been just like the others- wait, I'd been there before. When I had been younger, just entering secondary school, there had been nothing I had longed for more than to be normal, it hadn't been an easy time. You see, I had always been some kind of outsider: never dressed as fashionably as the others, always thinking differently, never interested in the gossip everyone seemed to love so much. Trying to fit in, I had tumbled into a deep state of depression back then until I finally realized that I was not the problem. This world was. This insane, kinky world that would make any normal person seem like a maniac. That was when I eventually started being myself. And the world had turned brighter all of a sudden; I had grown stronger, finding true friends who were just like me, somewhat out of the ordinary.

But considering my current situation, that was something entirely different. Slowly, I shifted from my reclined position into a sitting one, causing my thin white blanket to crinkle around my hips, which had become visibly rounder lately. Topped by a narrow waist and a slightly protruding chest, my body was so definitely female I couldn't have disguised myself as a mech if I had had formidable armor. A mech's shoulders were broad, the waist and hips were slim yet robust, framed with strong arms and legs. Nothing like my own physique. Armor in general was another thing I could actually have used but which I didn't have. I was, in human terms, naked. But being naked wasn't the aspect of not having armor I could deal the less with, it was the missing protection. I ran my hand over the length of my lower arm tentatively. That was the problem, I was way too sensitive without protective armor, every touch beyond feather light started to hurt.

The blanket billowed like a huge white cloud when I ripped it off my lap so I could stand up. I was tired of lying around all day- even if it wouldn't get me anywhere, I just wanted to move. I wriggled my feet widely after swinging my legs over the berth's edge before hopping down from the padded surface. The floor was white and squeaky clean as could be expected of the mysophobic medic. Really, whenever he wasn't treating one of his patients or tinkering with some tool or gadget, Ratchet was constantly cleaning up, even if there was not a single spec of dust to be found in the entire med bay. He didn't even have any cleaning drones in here (which could always be seen scurrying along the hallways outside) because he thought they were annoying and messy. Freak. I listened to the quiet tip- tap of my own feet as I moved across the room. There wasn't much in here except the medical berths: a cabinet with spare blankets and pillows, the occasional pedestal for drips in the corner beside something that looked much like a defibrillator.

The wall across from the berths looked depressingly empty though- a picture or two would have worked miracles. The two doors at the room's end caught my attention again. One of them- the one to the left- was the one leading to the med bay but it was the right one I was interested in. I wondered what I would find in there, maybe a simple storage room or a secluded private wing or maybe... my slender hand pressed down on the door's handle carefully. It could have been locked, but it wasn't. The large door opened soundlessly to reveal an unlit room- I reached inside and felt around for the light switch, a smooth, rectangular touch sensor on the wall. My vents hitched. There were six roundish and translucent vessels hanging from the wall, framed with black metal and connected to various offline machines and monitors via tubes and cables. The design was absolutely alien but still I knew what it was that I was seeing, having studied construction plans in one of Ratchet's datapads. I heard the other door open before the medic stepped up behind me and placed a gentle hand on my shoulder.

"Those are..." I trailed off. I knew what they were even if I didn't quite want to believe it.

"Gestation pods, yes." Ratchet murmured, his hand tightening on my shoulder ever so slightly. "I was ordered to build them a few weeks ago, guess whose idea that was."

"Prime." I said darkly. So preparations for me giving birth were already made. Great.

XXXXXXXXXX

I stared at the datapad in Prime's hand numbly, wanting to cry out of desperation and anger.

"I hope you've got a good explanation for this, Alpha."

"I..." my voice got caught in my vocalizer. I looked around his office, anywhere but at him. I was stupid, so very, very stupid. How could I have been so careless? How could I not have noticed how Ironhide was watching me while I had been transcribing texts to my modified datapad, waiting to receive information about Ratchet's latest plan? Well, see how you get out of this one, girl. "I'm not... it's not mine." Yeah. Like he'd ever believe that.

"Really? Is that all you could come up with? You know, that is very hard for me to believe." He stood up, making me shrink back against the office door automatically. I pressed my back against the door tightly as he approached. "If it's not yours, then you can certainly explain what one of my Autobots would do with a security grade 8.5 datapad, modified to respond to _your_ energy signature alone?" I didn't answer. What point was there in denial when the evidence was so very obvious? But I didn't confess, either. Why should I? "I will ask you one more time, youngling: where did you get this gadget?" As if he didn't already know. Ratchet was the only tech freak on base I was on friendly terms with after all. Again, I didn't speak, merely wrapping my arms around myself instead. I was absolutely certain I was making Prime mad with the silence but I was in trouble anyway so what the fuck. "Alpha. You do know I don't appreciate your behavior. Not in the least." Funny, I had expected him to throw a tantrum on the spot. Maybe he was just tired, who knew what he'd been up to. I hoped he was tired; everything else would turn out negatively for me in the end.

"I know." I said arrogantly. He didn't seem pleased by my smart ass remark and I twitched visibly when his massive fist hit the top of his desk with a loud bang.

"Then fragging stop this! Do you think I'm unaware of your constant plotting and of how you're manipulating my medic? I'm tired of putting up with that slag, Alpha. You've caused nothing but trouble since we brought you here." Wait- _manipulating his medic?_ What the hell was that big oaf even talking about? Never mind.

"Well, let me go then and I won't bother you anymore."

"Are you trying to negotiate with me, femme?" He cocked his head, the shutters of his optics twitching ever so slightly. Negotiating? With Optimus Prime? Could these words even be used in the same sentence? As if sensing my uncertainty (and therefore intending to exploit it), he stood up and sauntered over casually. "And what, my dear," My back was against the wall before he had even finished the sentence, "do you think you could offer me? What do you have that I want and that I will not get anyway?" The Prime was way too close for comfort by now and he obviously wasn't even thinking of backing off, on the contrary. While I was pressing myself against the cool wall behind me (tight enough to not leave room for a single atom between its surface and myself), he even lowered himself to his left knee to be closer to my optic lever although I suspected this position had less to do with successful communication and more with him being able to comfortably grope me.

"You won't be getting _anything_ from me."

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure of that if I were you." I couldn't help myself when the feeling of being cornered clashed with my hatred for the Prime and my disgust concerning his words- I knew I was getting myself into trouble once again when I struck him with both fists. I must have taken him by surprise for my punch landed right where it was intended to go, square on his noseplates. Then, I darted. The door was locked, I knew, and way too close to the Prime to get to it without me being within his reach; really, there was actually nowhere to go. I chose to simply take cover behind his massive desk, which was almost too big for me to see over the top. He stood up and turned around, bewilderment clearly written all over his faceplates before he brought his hand to his nose to rub at it irritatedly and glanced at his fingers briefly to see whether they would be smeared with energon afterward. They weren't for although this had been the strongest punch I could muster, I hadn't been able to break even the tiniest little fuel line in his nose. Disturbingly pathetic.

When he came for me, suddenly sporting an expression that went well down the road of fury, I didn't really know what to do. Or what _he_ would now do to _me_. Honestly, I acted purely on impulse and snatched a random object off his desk to defend myself. Laughable, I know. It didn't stop him from coming at me of course, and within moments I found myself cornered again. I held the longish metal object in front of me with both of my shivering hands as if it was some kind of weapon.

"Don't come any closer!" I yelled, he stopped for a moment, his mouth quirking upwards in what could have been called a truly sardonic smile.

"That is a pen you are holding there." Yes. Yes it was. "What are you going to do with it, hm?" he inquired mockingly, his voice like poisonous velvet. "Doodle on my armor?" I broadened my stance aggressively, pointing the pen at the Autobot commander's face.

"The pen is mightier than the sword."

"Is that so?" He let his right arm drop to his side and within a mere moment's notice, its lower armor split to allow a massive, dangerously glowing energy blade to reveal itself. I gasped, the pen clattered to the floor. Suddenly, the situation had become a whole lot more frightening, if not life- threatening. I silently moved backwards until my back hit the shelf behind his desk with a soft 'thump', he followed, equally quiet, raising his enormous and very much deadly weapon. The air itself seemed to be laden with hostile electricity.

"We could test that hypothesis right here, right now." he whispered as I slid along the shelf to cower on the floor. My optics were glued to the sword in front of me; I didn't want to die but then again I didn't think he intended to kill me anyway; what use would I be to him if my spark was extinguished? I still felt mortified though. After all, he was a volatile maniac.

My optics clenched shut when the blade's tip traced my collar. It was searing hot, painful even but as it barely made contact with my metal skin, it didn't actually injure me. Optimus followed the blade with his optics, leaning in close to press his lips against my audio and whisper to me. I didn't dare move or speak, even my vents had ceased functioning. The only thing mirroring how my spark was very much still beating (more like racing) were my optics, darting about feverishly.

"The pen might indeed be mightier than the sword, my dear Alpha. Either way, it depends on the one wielding it though." He looked straight into my optics, and although I didn't believe in the stories of the Primes having almost supernatural abilities, it felt like he was glancing at my very soul, my whole existence laid bare before the tyrant. Something seemed to suddenly bother him, though I couldn't place my finger on what that could have been. "For someone as young and inexperienced as yourself, you do have some nerve disobeying your rightful owner." What did he expect me to answer to that? I closed my optics as my whole body kept trembling under his scrutinizing glare. It didn't take long until his unwelcome lips were crushing mine and only did I allow myself to cry out after he had retracted his horrifying weapon so he could use both of his hands to grope me in his typically domineering fashion. He pulled away slightly, his fingers curled around my upper arms; I turned my face away immediately. I didn't want to see him. I didn't want to fucking _see_ him anymore. Ever.

"This is a fight you cannot win, femme. A Prime will always prevail, remember that. Oppose me and you shall suffer; please me and I shall reward you richly." When I didn't reply he rose again, pulling me with him. He called Prowl back into the office and ordered him to take me to room 101. Before I exited the spacious room though, I turned around to the hated Prime once more. I didn't care who he thought he was, _I_ would have the last word. No matter the consequences.

"You will never possess any means of bribing me into hating you less, Prime." For a moment, our optics met, boring into each other, fighting a non- physical and silent battle for dominance that I did not intend to lose. With a hard yank of my chain, Prowl forced me away.

XXXXXXXXXX

The darkness enclosing me had ceased to be a stranger a long time ago and it was with disturbing acknowledgment that I realized how it could grant comfort. When the darkness has become your friend, you let go of all light, of all hope. The light was slowly becoming my enemy, albeit I dreaded that development. But fact was, hope was indeed fading for me. Maybe Prime was right and there was really no way for me to win or even get out of this unoffended. When I was fighting with every last bit of strength and it _still just wasn't enough_, what was there left for me to do?

Weep, that was what I could still do and that was what I was currently doing. My legs were clutched to my chest and I was rocking back and forth on the floor of my dark, cold and unforgiving prison. Maybe, sooner or later, I would just fall over into a dreamless recharge, never to awake again. However, that was something I now could merely fantasize of. Sadly, death and pain were the only things left my dreams could evolve around, I was haunted by the Prime even in my sleep. Ratchet wouldn't be able to help me now and from this room I would probably be forced into the Prime's bed directly. It wasn't fair, _life_ wasn't fair. A wail rose in the back of my throat, rising to become a scream, a roar of pure agony. I covered my head with my hands as I screamed into the darkness- nothing short of a miracle could save me now.

XXXXXXXXXX

B.R. seemed to be utterly fidgety today. I never thought I'd ever associate the usually so stoic mech with that word, but he wasn't the only one behaving weird- everyone, be it the guards in my cell or the other Autobots I had encountered whenever said guards led me to the wash racks or the rec room had become more and more nervous, somewhat fretful over the past days since I had been released from room 101, but this morning the agitation seemed to have reached its zenith. Everywhere I went, sudden silence seemed to drape over the bots like a heavy, dark blanket. It made me feel... very uneasy.

We were walking down the hallway towards the gathering room where we would get our morning energon, which had turned into some kind of routine. However, something was off today. We turned left, heading down the short corridor with our destination's door at it's end, but my guard halted before we reached it. I turned around to face him. He was standing there, immobile like a statue, staring at the door where he knew most of the other Autobots were without doubt already having breakfast. He looked... I couldn't really place the emotions wavering across his face.

"Is something wrong?" He looked at me, a slight shiver rocking his brightly colored frame.

"It's..." He was trembling a little, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. What was bothering him to the point where he appeared so restless, even on the outside? He almost looked... torn. "...nothing." I didn't believe him, but in fact, I couldn't say I was that interested in what was bothering him anyway and entered the room. As soon as I had stepped inside, followed by a reluctant mech, the animated chatter of the other Autobots died down. Well, I'd expected that. I bowed because I wasn't in the mood for being yelled at for my impoliteness, then I made a beeline for the energon dispenser to pour myself a cube, however, I didn't get far.

Looking back, I noticed B.R. was still standing in the doorway, holding my chain tightly with both hands. I yanked it lightly to make him wake up and _move_, this was embarrassing enough as it was. And everyone was staring at me like I had grown a second head. I wondered what was up with those morons and just when I was about to find myself a spot where I could sit and drink my fuel peacefully, Prime stood up from his seat at the officer's table. No one said a word when he closed in on me, it made me nervous. Standing tall in front of me, imposing giant of a mech he was, he took the chain from B.R., who then retreated rather hurriedly, and sniffed the air copiously, smiling.

"My my, what an alluring scent." His velvety voice was smooth and deep as always, but there was something else to it. Something that hadn't been there before. Not like that, at least. I sniffed the air myself, not smelling anything out of the ordinary.

"What are you talking about, _sir_? There's nothing." Low chuckles could be heard across the room. Were they smelling something I wasn't? Were they making fun of me? What? Optimus stepped closer, I retreated. He put a hand down on the counter to his right. I watched him wearily; he was up to something, I could tell.

"I know you cannot smell it, but..." he turned his head slightly to look at his subordinates, then back at me. "...everyone else can." I retreated further. Not sure what I was supposed to do, I looked over to Ratchet, whom I had noticed standing in the corner, shaking so hard I could see the energon in the cube he was holding jolt. Otherwise he didn't move, just standing there and staring, terrified.

"...so what...?" I knew I was sounding very insecure now even if I tried to keep my voice steady. Optimus Prime extended his large hand, grinning all the while. I didn't like this at all.

"Give me your hand, Alpha." I stepped back yet again.

"I'd... rather not."

"Give me your hand." He insisted. If there was one thing I knew about the commander, it was that, if he wasn't obeyed when he used that tone, it could get really uncomfortable so I lay my much smaller hand onto his palm begrudgingly. As soon as my slender digits had made contact with his, he grabbed my wrist tightly, making me flinch at the rough turned back to the others, forcing me to do the same, dragging me by the arm.

"Autobots," he addressed them "this is a glorious day for us. Too long have we lingered in the misery of demise, too long have we feared for our race to vanish into oblivion. Now, that era is over!" With that, he pulled my arm up harshly, though it might have looked kind of triumphant to the others. His voice rose when he resumed his speech. "We have worked hard to come this far. We have overcome challenges beyond comparison and every one of you has proven to be worthy of bearing the insignia." He touched their faction's symbol at the center of his chest energetically. "Today, we will start anew! The cybertronian race will regain its former glory. TODAY THE GOLDEN AGE OF CYBERTRON SHALL BE RESURRECTED!"

Everyone stood up cheering as a reaction to the short but fiery speech. Dread crept to my mind, I should have known all along what this was about. This couldn't be happening, this was just a bad dream, a very bad one. My body seemed to be faster than my processor for it went completely stiff and finally started struggling when the Prime proceeded over to the door with me but as it was useless, I started screaming for help. _They will know when the time has come. They will know._ Ratchet's words echoed in my mind. _He_ had known all along.

"Nooo! Let go of me! Please, anyone! HELP MEEE!" The Autobots were still cheering, well, most of them were. I screamed at the top of my voice, screamed to the others to help me, to stop the inevitable, to stand up against their Prime, but no one moved. No one seemed to care about the pure cruelty of the situation. As I was dragged across the room and to the exit, I screamed for the only mech who would possibly help me, although I knew beforehand it was futile. "RATCHEEEET! RATCHET PLEASE!" The crowd of Autobots started moving, following their Prime, cheering him on, yelling avid obscenities while Ratchet just... stood there. He wouldn't help me. Of course. As the rec room doors disappeared behind the first corner, I turned to the mech holding my wrist and pulling me with him harshly. "Prime! You can't do this to me! You- stop at once!"

"Oh, stop whining already. You should feel honored." His statement hurt more than I had thought it would, more than his brutal grip on my arm, more than my shackles cutting into my wrists, another icy dagger piercing my spark. He knew what he was doing to me, the unutterable terror he was inflicting upon me even now while he was just on the way to the officer's private wing where his quarters were located, his cheering subordinates following him past confused human guards. On top of that, he was implying I should be grateful for this horrifying and gruesome treatment- I was once again reminded of why I hated him so much. But my hate for him paled in comparison to my fear.

"Please! _Optimus_..." He stopped. Everyone went silent for a moment, everyone _knew_ that bots of low rank were not allowed to simply call him 'Optimus'. "Don't do this..." I sobbed. He turned around slowly, looking thoughtful before startling me by scooping me up and forcing me into a hard kiss before throwing me onto his broad shoulder and continuing on his path to my ruination.

"I don't negotiate with sparklings."

My limbs hurt from all the struggling and my voice was already rough and full of static when we reached what must have been his quarters and the large Prime opened the door before closing it behind us again. He certainly didn't bother as much for my privacy as he did for his own, still I was glad that if this really was to happen, at least no one would see. That didn't mean I was giving up just yet though. He carried me through the dimly lit front room to the second one where his large berth was looming in the darkness, wide and massive, threatening. As soon as he put me down on it, I scrambled off again and tried to run for the door.

My feet got caught in the chain still connected to the shackles binding me and I fell hard, but I didn't care. My mind was focused on one thing: getting away from the Prime. Stumbling and certainly denting myself I reached the door and tried to open it, but it had been locked from the inside. I screamed miserably as I tore at the handle, banged my fists and feet against the door and what not to just make the fucking thing open! Through the door, I could perceive nothing but silence now... Two large, warm hands on my hips and a mouth on the back of my neck made me come to a shuddering halt.

"Why don't you just stop that noise and enjoy what I can do for you, hm?"

"NOO!" I rammed my elbow into his stomach as hard as possible, hitting his grill and making him cough a little; he seemed to be sensitive there. Good. Bad, because the attack made him significantly less amused. Before I could even attempt to get away, he gripped my waist tightly and pulled me against his chest with one rough motion. I felt his lips move against my cheek when he spoke.

"Do not do that again." I jerked in his grasp but there was no hope of freeing myself, not when he stood up from his kneeling position on the floor, not when he carried me back to his bed. And definitely not when he pinned me to its surface with his massive bulk, his hands all over me, his mouth covering my face with sloppy kisses. I kept screaming and struggling and hitting and kicking, but I already felt my strength dwindling, slipping from my fingers. It was hopeless, he was just so much bigger and stronger than me there was no chance for me to somehow wriggle out of his grasp. I started to cry out of fear, out of pain and simple distress. Forcefully, he parted my kicking legs with one hand and let it slip up to the junction of my thighs.

"PLEASE NO! I BEG OF YOU!" My miserable pleas met deaf audios, no matter what I said or how loud I wailed, he didn't stop the merciless assault. He growled, his chassis scraping over mine roughly, all I was seeing was the giant mech above me, his devilish grin, his terrible azure optics, cold as ice... I had never been so afraid in my entire life. I was too horrified to think, all I could do was scream, struggle and scream even louder but it was of no use. An audio- shattering shriek was torn from my vocalizer when he pried my port covering off and my untouched intimate circuitry was exposed to the air for the first time. He nuzzled the side of my head, I swung my head around swiftly to brutally bite one of the long antennae protruding from his audios. He snarled loudly and sunk his teeth into my shoulder in return, causing me to gasp in pain and let go of his now viciously warped and bleeding antenna.

"You fucking bastard!" He removed his teeth from my shoulder to smirk at me. It kind of satisfied me to see the Prime's energon seep from his audio, but the sight of my own life fluid on his lips somewhat dampened that little feeling of success. A thick drop of my energon gathered on his bottom lip only to drip down to my mouth; he lowered his face for another forceful kiss, licking the sickeningly sweet fluid off my lips. I felt like I was going to throw up any moment but that feeling was pushed aside instantly by the stabbing pain in my abdomen when he plunged one of his huge fingers into my virgin port.

I screamed, I bucked against him wildly, pounding every part of him I could reach with my bound wrists, scratching him, the only thing on my processor being getting him to withdraw- and that motherfucker pushed his digit in even deeper, cruelly twisting it around, setting every sensor down there aflame in the most agonizing way. I had feared it would hurt but this was much worse than in my imagination. I couldn't take it, it was just too much, the pain was too intense for me to handle and I didn't think it could get any worse and that was where I was so very wrong.

He flipped me over onto my front, my screams were muffled by his berth's padded surface. I was glad his finger had left my port for now, even if I knew it was far from over; he pulled my hips up with one hand while pushing my shoulders down with the other forcefully, I clawed at the berth below to just get the fuck away from him, tearing the padding up with my sharp fingertips. Then, sharp pain tore through my abdomen once again but this time, it was much, much worse. I screamed with renewed vigor. Prime groaned deeply, pushing his way too big cable into my port from behind, not caring about any gentleness.

I thought I was going to explode, I wanted to die, wanted for it to be over, I couldn't even move. I even stopped screaming for a moment, it just hurt too badly. The screech of his cable scraping along my insides brutally filled the room. My body twitched as it was being impaled; the humiliation set aside, it felt like pure fire was being inserted into my sensitive reproductive circuitry. I whimpered and resumed screeching. This agony was too much to bear. I was sure I was bleeding already, that Prime was enjoying to feel my body being ripped apart. It took long, very long until his hips met mine, his cable seated fully in my port. I had long since been reduced to a miserable, crying heap of metal... my vision was blurry now, my voice hoarse from all the screaming, my whole body hurt, of course the pain was worst between my legs and within my lower torso and above all I felt so fucking sick. I wanted to be somewhere else, anything would have been better than this, really anything... water shorting was a nice walk in the park compared to this.

He was moving around behind me, not thrusting but more rotating and grinding our hips together; I didn't care to analyze what exactly the Prime was doing though for it was all equally terrible and hurt devilishly. I don't remember at what point of time I just lay there with my optics clenched shut, deprived of the energy to fight anymore, trying to be somewhere else, my body just being moved passively. I wanted to block out the pain so desperately, but the torture of him moving within me, stretching me so excruciatingly wide, the agony was just too real, too existent to be disregarded. Finally, at some point or another, I blacked out.

**I'm feeling really, really miserable about this but it had to happen, it's essential to the plot. Sorry guys. Sorry Alpha.**


	15. Critical

**Transformers belongs to Hasbro/Takara.**

**The Dark Horizon**

**Chapter 15: Critical**

I had been awake for a while now, although the term 'awake' was a matter of definition in this case. I was staring up at the ceiling, though I couldn't tell where I was or how I'd gotten here, everything on my processor focused on the pain, the hellish pain emanating from my abdomen and spreading to every sensor array in my damned body. I was feeling so terribly cold but there was no strength in my limbs to do anything about it, I knew even the slightest movement would send new waves of sharp pain through my body. It was hard to vent air, my intakes were convulsing irregularly, it was, I couldn't...

That was when I noticed the massive and very heavy arm that was draped across my torso and when it pulled me closer to its slumbering owner, I gasped in pain. I heard the bot beside me purr deeply and mumble something- who was he? His presence frightened me, filled my spark with dread and I didn't even know why; the now intensified pain kept me from thinking about it. Oh god, it hurt so much. A kiss to my cheek, a hand wandering down to my hips- he froze.

"What the..." With one swift move, he ripped the thin covers off my trembling body, a cool gust of air hit me. "No... slag it all, no!" The bed shook violently when the large bot jumped up hurriedly and picked me up. My weak protests ( being moved hurt terribly) were ignored, he was running somewhere with me clutched in his huge arms, shouting at other bots to move out of the way. Where was I being carried?

It felt like I was growing weaker every second, colder and yet my vents tried cycling more and more air to still cool my body down further while they were growing less efficient at the same time. I hung in his arms, limp from exhaustion when he kicked a double winged door open and another mech rushed towards us, his neon green armor flaring agitatedly as he yelled at the bot carrying me to place me on the surgery table. Its surface was very cold, I wanted to get off it again, I was fucking freezing.

"Can I-"

"You've done enough, Prime! Out! Out now!" The green bot seemed absolutely infuriated, still I knew that he was no source of danger to me. I whimpered weakly, squirming on the cold metal table as the green mech held me down gently while inserting a needle into the primary fuel line in my neck. The sedative burned in my fuel lines briefly before my processor went numb and I lost consciousness.

It is hard to describe what I went through in the next hours; after an indefinite time of being out completely I wallowed somewhere between being passed out and being awake and, I guess, between life and death. I was scared, felt utterly helpless and I thought I was going to die. But, I knew, Ratchet was there. I _felt _he was with me but I first thought I was merely hallucinating although it should later turn out there was more to it than febrile delusions. I must have fought for my life for hours but I was growing weaker- it seemed I was loosing yet another battle.

I woke up again, but this time, it was different. First it started like the times I had awoken in the past hours: I felt numb yet miserable, cold and barely online, optics opened ever so slightly but not actually seeing anything. Ratchet was close, holding my hand in both of his, he was trembling. He said something, but I didn't understand it... still, the sound of his voice was somewhat soothing to me. His gentle touch was fading, but he didn't move. It were my senses that were giving in, sensors ceasing to transmit data to my weary CPU. It was getting dark and then-

"Please, Alpha. You must not give up, you must not die. Not like this... I've done all I can but now it's up to you..." I heard Ratchet as clearly as I saw him- just not from my actual position beside him, but from above, like I was hanging from the ceiling. I could see myself too, lying there, absolutely motionless. I looked very sick, my body was connected to a myriad of monitors and machines which would keep me alive artificially. One of them started beeping frantically and Ratchet was quick to inject something beneath my chestplates. The needle was long and thick but I didn't feel its sting, I didn't feel anything anymore. The monitor's readings, which were obviously displaying my spark beat, normalized a little. Ratchet put his hand down on my forehead, sniffing.

"Alpha... there's nothing left I can do for you, I cannot help you..." he looked up at the monitors again and sighed, crestfallen, the readings were moving to negative levels again. "There's nothing I can do..." My consciousness started fading further, I felt like I was being pulled away...

"...except for one thing." I was kind of shocked to see him ripping the cables and tubes from my body after a brief moment of hesitation before picking me up with determination. All the medical support systems' alarms went off as I was disconnected, creating a wild cacophony of pings, chirps and beeps but Ratchet paid them no heed. What was he up to...? His chest started glowing, as did mine before he pressed our chassis together closely.

Suddenly, I was back in my body, fully aware as his spark energy surged through me, revived me, provided the strength needed to... save my life. I felt Ratchet's spark within mine and mine within his, I could sense his deep grief, his shame at having failed to protect me but also his pure and unconditional love for me. And this was when I knew, it was all of a sudden so clear to me, a universal truth that could no longer be denied: Ratchet was my father.

He cradled me to his chest lovingly, our sparks connected in a bond which had existed since before my birth but which had also never been activated. As my father held me, as his spark caressed mine in a way that let me forget all the terror and agony I had went through in the past two years, I grew ever stronger through the energy he was passing on from his life force to mine. When he kissed my forehead and lowered me to the berth once more, I knew I had been ripped from death's icy grip in the last minute. Across the bond, I could feel how relieved Ratchet was, how he wished nothing more now than for me to pull through. Feeling him, one of my creators, in my very spark was an experience more powerful than I could ever have imagined; it surpassed everything, an ultimate remedy. A remedy that, finally, allowed me to sleep, under the protection of my parent.

XXXXXXXXXX

Someone was sitting beside my berth in the infirmary, I could tell even with my optics closed, and it wasn't Ratchet, which was rather unsettling. Warmth was coming off his frame, the sound of his large vents working steadily could be heard clearly and his smell- I knew the scent of this specific Cybertronian, but I wasn't awake enough yet to really place my finger on who this bot might be.

Then it clicked in my processor and my vents hitched. It was Prime. Fear ran through me, it felt like I had just been thrown into a basin filled with liquid ice. I remembered. I heard him shift, fear turned into sheer panic. Oh god. Why was he here? Would he hurt me again? Where was Ratchet? Why wasn't he here to protect me from the cruel commander? He must have known I wasn't recharging anymore- my vents were working too fast to mimic recharge believably. A light touch to my cheek startled me enough to let me rip my optics open, yelp and fall off the berth. I gasped at the impact with the cold floor and I tried to get back up or at least move away from the uncomfortable and vulnerable position on the white surface and, of course, to take cover. But I couldn't. My legs wouldn't budge, I couldn't even _feel_ them. My energon seemed to be running cold. Why couldn't I feel my legs?

Prime stood up from his chair at the other side of the high medical berth and rounded the piece of furniture to get to me. I screamed, absolutely mortified to be seeing the source of my nightmares moving towards me. Before he could reach me though, the door was thrown open and Ratchet stormed in.

"What the pit is going on here?"

"Ratchet!" I half wailed, half yelped. Ratchet nudged my spark with his worriedly across the distance before shoving his way past a confused Prime to kneel down beside me and pick me up off the floor. He didn't put me back to my bed though, holding me to himself instead.

"I told you she'd react badly to your presence after what you've done to her! But does anyone ever pay attention to the CMO's medical advice? Nooo." I buried my face in the complaining medic's shoulder so I wouldn't have to see the Prime anymore.

"I didn't even do anything right now." The large commander said, surprisingly sheepish all of a sudden. Ratchet turned to carry me out to the med bay's main room, Prime followed, I whimpered quietly.

"You caused her to fall off the berth! What if the welds were broken because of the impact? Do you wanna kill her?"

"She-"

"I need to be treating my very ill and very sensitive patient now, so unless you are seriously injured yourself, move your aft out of my fragging med bay, _sir!_" To me, the medic's aggression towards his commander was highly unusual but it was even less believable that Optimus Prime actually gave in and left without another word. Did this really just happen? The doors closed behind the large mech just before Ratchet put me down on one of the examination tables carefully. I didn't want him to let go of me but he managed to persuade me to loosen my death grip on his armor.

"He's feeling guilty." Ratchet answered to my unspoken question. "And he should be. You almost bled to death because of that mindless slagger." I didn't exactly know why, but suddenly everything just became too much for me, my processor now feeling clear enough to really assess the weight of everything that had happened lately. I started wailing loudly. Ratchet didn't seem all that shocked at my outburst.

"Ratchet... he... he..."

"I know, my little one. I know." I clung to him helplessly as he enfolded me in his arms affectionately, I cried, I let him try to comfort me. Nevertheless, deep down I knew that the mental wounds the Prime had inflicted upon my spark would probably never heal fully. I had been raped, brutalized in a horrifying way and no one would do anything to bring my rapist to justice, no, if I couldn't run away I would even be back in his clutches in no time. Even thinking of him almost scared me to death, cold panic seizing my mind and preventing me from thinking clearly. I had been sitting there for a while, crying and screaming my pain out when Ratchet pushed me down on the examination table slowly.

"I need to take a look at your welds, little one."

"My... no!" I tried to sit back up, still crying, but he held me down gently. I didn't want him to examine me in such a sensitive area, even if he was pretty much the only one I trusted, even if he had saved my life not too long ago. The green medic brushed his hand over my head.

"I _must _make sure you weren't damaged further when you fell off the berth. You don't have to be afraid. I'll just take a quick look and if everything's alright, you may even be able to walk back to your berth on your own, hm?"

"My legs... they're- I can't..."

"I know, I've disconnected the main sensory line in your lower back when I repaired you. You would have needed heavy painkillers if I hadn't and that would have been anything but good for your already weakened system." It took a reassuring touch of his spark for me to let him proceed, still I hated the mere thought of being examined. He made it quick though, as he's promised, and after finding the welds in good condition he helped me turn to lie on my front so he could reconnect the sensory cables in my back. I felt slight discomfort while sitting up, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the mental strain of the whole situation.

"You should try to stand up and walk. That should wake your nervous system back up. Here, I'll help you. Steady." Braced by his hands beneath my arms, I slid from the slab carefully. My legs didn't quite want to cooperate, giving in beneath my weight but Ratchet kept me from falling. My whole lower body was aching now, however, it was bearable. After my legs had stabilized somewhat, I made a small step, then another one. The pain increased, yet I didn't show it. It was ten little steps later that it became strong enough for me to have to take a break.

"It hurts..."

"Do you think you'll make it back to the berth?" I took a deep vent.

"I'll try." I continued. The pain grew worse with every step, I was wheezing by the time I reached the door to the room with the berths, outright moaning as I reached my destination. Ratchet helped me onto the berth before leaving briefly to fetch some mild painkillers. As I was waiting for him to come back, I noticed Mirage was occupying the berth beside me; he looked like he had just went through some major surgery, out cold and with several big welds across his chassis, drips and cables attached to his frame. The medic returned and administered the medicine to me, then he tucked me in delicately. The throbbing pain subsided.

"Don't worry, Mirage's in stasis for now." He said, having seen my worried glances toward the still mech. After a long and awkward moment of silence, I decided to finally bring up the topic bothering me most at that time.

"Father." He looked up wearily, I looked back at him. "Why didn't you tell me?" The chair by my bedside creaked a little when he sat down.

"I hadn't planned on letting you know at all, to be honest. It's too dangerous, if anyone finds out... I had to activate the sparkbond and transfer the energy. You would have died otherwise."

"No one knows?" Ratchet shook his head.

"No one but the two of us." I sighed.

"I want... I want to know the truth, Ratchet. Where is my mother? Who is, or was, she? How did I come to be?"

"Alpha, I'm not sure if-"

"Why won't you tell me? I'm your child. Do I not have the right to know?" Silence. I was watching Ratchet closely as his shoulders sagged, his optics closed for a moment.

"... of course you do." He waited a little to conglomerate before he began. "You might have read about the cybertronian custom of younglings being affiliated by an elder mech or femme so they could learn from and were protected by their mentors. Well, I have had a couple of protégés myself, turned them into qualified medics. I didn't just take anyone though, no. As the Prime's personal medic and head of the Medical Research Institute of Cybertron, I could afford to be picky and you can believe me when I say I was. My latest student, First Aid, had just finished his training so I was searching for a new bot to call my pupil. As expected, there were many wanting to take his place but few matched my expectations even barely. You see, I had created a special test for anyone who wanted to become my student, checking their intelligence, skill and endurance. Of course, most failed at that test.

And then, out of the blue, _she_ showed up. Her name was Moonracer and she had come from the sixth colony, Meta, which had just suffered under a series of large scale Decepticon attacks. Her family and friends had been brutally slaughtered by the enemy and she had been the only one able to flee to Cybertron, traumatized but willing to learn and make something of herself. I admit I was a little perplexed when I first saw her. There she was, a little, grubby femme from some remote off planet province, requesting to be made my apprentice. Well, I wanted to be fair and so I let her take the test although I didn't expect her to be able to finish even half of the tasks." He laughed out good-naturedly.

"Bot, was I stunned when she finished not only beneath the time limit, but when I saw she'd scored higher than any bot I had ever tested before. I appointed her immediately. And really, it was amazing how fast she learned. I was sure that this young femme had the potential for becoming the greatest medic Cybertron had ever seen. She was a bit cheeky at times, yes, but she was also the cutest, most compassionate and most dedicated bot I have ever met; I sometimes believed she was being too nice to her patients, really.

The young mechs would often get into fights over who would be treated by her next although most of them didn't require medical attention at all. She did have quite a few, well, 'boyfriends' as the humans would say but you know how it is, young love rarely lasts long. I cared for her like she was my own child, comforted her when she was lovesick or when another of her youngling- relationships ended." He closed his optics again for a few seconds, his brows furrowing.

"Her beauty seemed to increase with every cycle, but as she grew older, she became less interested in the bots wooing her. Still, by the time she reached adulthood she had so many suitors it was becoming difficult to even leave the infirmary, I more often than not had to have them removed forcefully. For her, a new stage in her life was now beginning: responsibility comes with maturity and when a bot reaches a certain age, they will have to choose their faction, but considering what the Decepticons had done to her loved ones, there was no question whether Moonracer would become an Autobot or not. It wasn't long after she had pledged loyalty to the Prime that we were called to investigate a viral contamination in the city state of Praxus.

To me, her kiss was a real surprise. I mean, could have had practically anyone but no, it was the grouchy old medic she had to fall in love with. Truth be told, I loved her dearly but I would never have thought that she... I told her it was a bad idea. It was illegal for a mentor and their protégé to have any kind of intimate relationship, it was a law designed to protect younglings from being abused by their elders. She knew that and she didn't care. I tried to put some distance between us, of course that was next to impossible; we worked and lived together, after all. I knew that it would cause nothing but trouble though if I gave in- she was so very young and I was... not. I thought that it was just a stage of infatuation on her side and that it would pass in time." A sigh escaped his lips, he shifted in his chair again.

"However, it _didn't _pass and it became more and more obvious that she was being serious about it and I... no bot is immune to two sparks calling out to each other and I found myself not being able to keep away from her, no matter how hard I tried. We decided to give it a try and keep it a secret. No one suspected anything, gladly. It was a wonderful time; she was my save haven to return to when the horrors of war had become too much, my little piece of heaven in a world of hell. It went on like this for over three vorns, but then something unthinkable happened. She was carrying. It should have been impossible, really; both of us had been using inhibitors, programs developed to manipulate the data transferred during interfacing and make it unreadable.

Now we had a problem. Not only was our relationship illegal in every aspect, but with the war going on it was also not allowed for a femme to bear sparklings is she had no explicit admission to do so. We didn't know what to do. We thought about taking a vacation and having the sparkling secretly, but it wouldn't have worked. It would have taken way too long, both of us were urgently needed on Cybertron; adoption or, Primus forbid, abortion wasn't something we even considered." He turned his face away and sniffed; he looked outright miserable. Had Cybertronians been able to cry, I was sure there would have been tears forming at the corners of his optics.

"The others found out sooner than we had thought... a pregnant femme just smells different. Pit broke loose as the rumors spread. Prime was absolutely furious, he wanted to know why he hadn't been asked for permission, what she had been thinking getting herself knocked up with the lack of medics we were suffering from already and, of course, who the father was. She didn't tell him and that only furthered his anger. He... he threatened to put her into the stockades and take the sparkling away from her as soon as it was born if she didn't tell him. Moonracer remained obstinate though and was therefore court martialed. I tried to talk some sense into Prime, tried to persuade him to be merciful and leave her be, I told him I had installed her inhibitor myself shortly after she had become my apprentice and that it must have been an accident, but he wouldn't listen.

He sentenced her for eight stellar cycles in the stockades; before they could arrest her though, she fled. For nineteen solar cycles, I heard nothing of her; I was so worried, I didn't know where she was, if she was well or... In the twentieth night, she sneaked into our apartment. She told me she had organized a small unlicensed ship on the black market and and would be leaving the planet. Moonracer begged me to come with her, but I didn't want to leave everything behind... we fought and she took off that same night. They chased her for vorns, but she was always a step ahead of the Prime and his investigators and so they finally left her alone as the war required their full attention and strength.

When the femmes disappeared however, they remembered the case of a female Autobot medic gone rogue and the hunt began anew. Eventually, she was found, here on earth. Alone. She was sick and therefore weakened, that was probably the reason they had been able to catch her at all. I don't know how long Prime tortured her to squeeze the sparkling's location out of her, but no matter what he tried, she wouldn't yield. They knew she had hidden you here on earth despite my concealed efforts to hinder investigations. It remains a mystery to me how she did it, but somehow she must have managed to give birth all alone, elongate your period of gestation artificially and craft a perfect disguise, a human shell, for you. She didn't want anyone to find you, ever.

Moonracer herself... I guess she had resigned, though. I tried to speak to her, but she ignored me altogether. I think she hated me in the end, not that I would resent it. She knew Prime wanted to keep her as a breeder, so she ended it all... she..." Ratchet stopped, unable to go on, covering his mouth with a shivering hand.

"She killed herself." I concluded, he nodded stiffly. After rubbing his face firmly, he reached into his right subspace pocket by his hip to retrieve a small, flat and silvery object. He squeezed it and a holographic, three dimensional image of a femme appeared above it. She was gorgeous, lean with curved armor, large and keen optics... a small smile was gracing her sophisticated face. My spark jumped happily at seeing her as if it knew who she was...

"Is that her?" I mumbled quietly, he nodded yet again. "She's beautiful."

"It is... a mere shadow of her true beauty... you should have seen her, she was truly stunning." His smile, which had built as he had talked about her admiringly now faded again, making room for a depressed expression again.

"Why, Ratchet? Why didn't you go with her?"

"I..." he sniffed "I was scared. I had worked my whole life to achieve everything I had and I knew that if we ran away together, we wouldn't only have lost everything and have been persecuted for our relationship and our illegal sparkling, but also for high treason... there would have been no save place for us in the universe. They would never have stopped hunting us. I thought that... that even if she, or both of us, were put in the stockades... her training would have ended automatically and I thought we could be together legally after that, bond and have sparklings. She wouldn't have any of that, she loved her unborn child, you, way too much to give you up. I kept telling myself everything was going to be alright one day until it was too late. All my titles, the status, everything I possessed, my work, the students and the success... after she was gone I realized that it all meant nothing to me- I wanted _her_, and her alone.

But what I have done... she needed me, depended on me and I let her down, I denied her when she was in dire trouble. I should have stood by her side, taken responsibility and I should have protected her as her mate. But I didn't. I drove her into death. And now you are here... I failed her... both of you... I'm... I'm so... I'M SO SORRY!" I blinked as he let his upper body fall forward onto my berth, hiding his face where the blanket piled beside my legs and crying heartbreakingly. True, what he had just told me was a story of sorrow, of guilt and terrible injustice and in a way, it _was_ his fault but... seeing him cry in such a miserable way was so... mechs were strong, mechs didn't show their pain, mechs didn't cry... did they?

It was disturbing to say the least. Then again, it must have been the first time he'd ever spoken about it, to anyone. I didn't know what to say. Should I feel angry at him for abandoning me and my mother or should I feel sorry he just hadn't found the strength in him to do something about all of it? I knew what it was like to have to fight the Prime and I understood how scared he must have been. Yes, he had fucked up big time, it remained a matter of speculation what might have been if he hadn't... but he had been, and still was, suffering because of it, I could feel how the guilt was consuming him, destroying his composure from the inside out... his spark didn't lie. It couldn't.

"Did you really love my mother, Ratchet?"

"I loved her," he sniveled without hesitation, "more than anything... I would lay down my life if it meant I could go back in time and redress what I have done wrong... if I could save her... oh Primus..."

"Good." I said. "That's all I need to know." My father looked up at me, puzzled. He now looked much older than usual.

"W- what...?" I put my small hand down on his much larger one, he clasped it with unbelievable gentleness.

"I don't know how to feel about all of this but... I mean, if you loved her and you didn't actively... well, just letting it happen and not doing anything doesn't make things better, still... I'm not sure if I can really forgive you but... I'm glad you're now being honest with me."

"I don't expect you to forgive me... really, there is no way I could ever emend it all."

"I know..." I whispered as I reclined slowly, still holding his hand. Was the tragedy never going to end? I wondered what my mother had been thinking in her final moments; she must have known they would eventually find me and that all her efforts had been in vain... my spark felt heavy. I wished I had known my mother.

**I've been waiting for this chapter sooo long... anyway, please review!**


	16. Stranger Mountains

**I'm sorry it took so long for me to write this but there have been some... very interesting developments in my life recently. Like falling in love I guess. Phew.**

**Transformers belongs to Hasbro/Takara.**

**The Dark Horizon**

**Chapter 16: Stranger Mountains**

„Alright. Done." I sat up and flexed my shoulders experimentally- I had been lying on my father's hidden work bench at the back of the med bay's repository for quite a while. The uploading of new programs to my processor hadn't required any anesthesia so I had been able to talk to Ratchet as he worked, mainly asking questions about what he was doing.

Now, with the processor upgrade activated, I felt slightly overwhelmed; a navigation system, an own commlink, a chronometer (with both cybertronian and earth time) and an all new sensor array which would help me intercept radio frequencies as well as access the internet. Additionally, four subspace pockets had been installed: two beneath the plating of my outer thighs, two at my lower back. It wasn't much but they would do to hold small objects such as tools or even an energon cube or two. I still had no armor though, firstly because that would be a change to my outer appearance so obvious even a blind bot would notice it and secondly because my father didn't have any proper spare parts he could reuse for it. Ratchet rubbed the back of his neck, which had obviously become very tense in the past hours.

"Now, to the safety instructions. Be careful with your new processor functions. Do not send messages via the commlink if there is a third bot between you and the acceptor; even if they can't decode the message, they will still feel the radio waves. Also, it is not possible to communicate with someone outside via the commlink from inside the base and vice versa, the shielding is too heavy. As to your access to the internet- you won't have any reception in here, either- remember that even though your IP will change within intervals of five minutes, the risk of being tracked via the internet remains. Use it with caution, no accounts on social networks or anything like that. Try not to leave any traces that could lead to you or anyone you know. Don't google yourself."

"Duh, I'm not dumb, Ratchet."

"I'm just saying. It is going to be a long time alone and you're gonna get bored, trust me. It will be tempting."

I rolled my optics- I had spent months in a completely dark and silent room, there was no way I could ever get any more bored than I had been back then. "I'll survive a little more boredom. So what's the plan again?"

XXXXXXXXXX

I tensed visibly when I saw the door to the room I was currently recovering in being opened and a red and blue mech shuffling through it. What did he want? What was he doing here? He was blocking the only possible escape... I was panicking again. The source of my nightmares was in close proximity once again and I couldn't get away! I was surprised when I realized he wouldn't come any closer than he already was, standing close to the door with his hands clasped behind his back somewhat awkwardly. Prime opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again without making a sound. I sat up on my berth; I had been dozing for a few hours, trying to gather some strength for the great strain that lay before me; I pulled my blanket up to my chin wearily.

"I...uh..." He seemed kind of fidgety, like he profoundly hated this, somehow... "I'm sorry." I blinked, this was indeed unexpected. He sighed. "It has been a very long time since I've been with anyone... much less with anyone of your size. I guess I got ahead of myself there... I endangered our future recklessly. I came here to offer my apologies."

"You merely regret damaging your... property, right?" I said quietly, but my voice was laced with bitter poison. "You wouldn't care about me at all if there were other femmes, isn't that so? You would just have let me die." His blue optics narrowed into slits.

"Here I am, a _Prime_, begging for forgiveness and you will not even give me a chance."

"You had your chance, Prime." I paused, remembering the day he had first appeared in my life. "You once said I could trust you, that you wouldn't hurt me. I have been hurt. Nothing you can do or say will make it undone."

"Very well." He rumbled, turned around and stopped before opening the door. "Since you seem to be well enough to insult me by now, it shouldn't be a problem for you to return to my berth. I am going to Washington DC tonight to meet some of our human allies, but when I return in a few days I shall keep your company again. I hope you'll have changed your point of view until then." With that said, he left. I muttered some quiet obscenities after the door shut; there was no way I would ever find myself anywhere near that gigantic asshole again- not if I could prevent it. I slumped back into the pillows; how could one single bot be so terribly exhausting? Thinking of him still seemed to tighten a knot in my stomach in a sickening mix of hate and fear. No, I never ever wanted to be in his company again and I sure as hell wouldn't ever want to leave my children (if I ever had any) under his 'protection'. I glared at the unusually quiet Mirage to my left who was staring at me with stunned optics.

"Shouldn't you be recharging?" I snapped at him. Without giving me a response, he rolled around on his berth cumbersomely as to not put any weight on the big welds zigzagging across his right side. I knew the mech was under the influence of heavy painkillers and wouldn't really be able to form many coherent thoughts for a while. He would often wake, mumble something and fall asleep again- well, I didn't mind to be honest, at least it meant he wouldn't really bother me. Except the two of us, there hadn't really been anyone requiring longer berthrest- aside from a greenish mech called Digger or something who had remained here for a few hours or so because Ratchet was watching whether the debugging he had performed on his CPU had been successful. Thankfully, the mech, who seemed to be some sort of construction worker, hadn't said a word during his stay.

Even if I had mostly recovered by now, I was still tiring quickly- I kept dozing off for the next hours although I felt too unsettled for a peaceful recharge. I was brought energon twice. I suspected Ratchet refined the energon he used in the med bay himself for it tasted way different from what one could get in the rec room... it was a bit sweeter with a mild aroma that reminded me of vanilla somehow...

"Alpha?" Bumblebee's quiet voice made me stop my pondering. So it was time. I looked down to the now reinforced handcuffs and the chain attached to them dangling from his hand and rattling as he moved towards me. "I was ordered to pick you up. According to your health file, you are ready to be relocated back to your cell." He said professionally. I sat up slowly, he fastened the cuffs to my wrists; I didn't fight him for I knew it was all part of the plan. He moved in a slow and somber way, I guessed he had a schedule to keep and was a bit ahead of it.

As we passed Ratchet in the med bay's main room he and Bumblebee acknowledged each other with stinted nods, our sparks brushed in a soft and silent farewell. His optics held the for him so typical gentleness and concern. I felt kind of melancholic knowing if I saw my father again anytime soon, it would certainly not be under joyful circumstances and as strange as it sounded, I didn't really want to leave him, but I had to. This world didn't leave us any choice.

Bee remained quiet as he led me along the hallways, both of us ignored the bots walking past us. That familiar feeling of experiencing a calm before the storm returned to me once again, this tingling tension, muscle cables taut and ready to jump into action any second now. Time was passing excruciatingly slow, every step took a whole month, every rotation of my vents equaled a rotation of earth itself, seemingly frozen images dancing across my perception, moving ever so slightly one wouldn't have noticed the motion if it wasn't for the knowledge that everything _must_ have been moving... and as always, the torturous slowness was transformed into murderous speed within the mere blink of an eye. A dull, but unnervingly loud bang was heard from above and a tiny cloud of dust fell from the ceiling, alarms went off, hectic disorder arising around us. Everybody was suddenly shouting, running, bellowing or receiving orders. The sound of chaos was like music to my audios.

"Quickly!" Bumblebee hissed and ran off. With my hands bound I was having some difficulties keeping up with his speed, it was manageable though. To the others, it would look like he was in a hurry to get me to my cell so he could help with defending the base against the "Decepticons", while our real destination would not be my cell at all. We rounded the corner to the right corridor, found the right door to our left, I jumped. We hadn't practiced this part of the plan, it was supposed to be a controlled move which was only supposed to look violent to put up a show for the security camera in the corner... I underestimated my own strength and speed though and knocked Bee down a little harder than would have been necessary. Thankfully, he had been prepared for this so he was able to brace himself a little against the impact- I would have apologized but in the frenzy I was now in I found myself unable to speak. As was part of the plan, I ripped the chain from his hands and bolted through the door.

There had to be a hidden access pad to the door behind the closet to my left- it seemed to be a rather heavy piece of furniture so it would have been both tricky and dangerous to try and bowl it down from the floor: if I somehow was trapped below it, my escape would be cut very short. But I was quickly learning to compensate the lack of size and strength through processing power and therefore it didn't take long for me to think of something: I jumped up to grasp the closet's top, pulled myself up a good bit and braced my legs against the wall firmly. It took four mighty pushes until its stand was insecure enough to make the large closet go down; I had to jump away from it before it hit the ground so I wouldn't get hurt.

In a hurry I punched the first of the three access codes Ratchet had given to me into the small access pad and the door clicked audibly. This, I had been told, was not an average storage room, albeit its looks would have made anyone entering it believe just that... in truth, it was the entrance to one of the many emergency escape tunnels of the Autobot base. It was equipped with a heavily armored door which would lock if the right code was entered, a second code would open an invisible hatch in one of the walls. I entered the second code quickly. It worked.

Ahead of me lay a long and dark tunnel the excavation work on which I knew had been finished mere days ago: my path to freedom. Without wasting another second I stepped through the large opening in the wall- it would close automatically after five minutes- and started trotting along the gloomy tube.

XXXXXXXXXX

My head was resting against cool metal, the darkness of the small contained space I was sitting in was interrupted by a single dim and red light bulb dangling from the ceiling. I chuckled soundlessly; this had almost been too easy. By the time I had gotten out of the tunnel, it had already been close to nightfall and I had been glad for the camouflage the dark provided me with. The black rock desert had been cool and quiet as the night passed, save for one helicopter passing by. If it hadn't been for the certain knowledge of being hunted I would probably even have enjoyed my long 'hike'. Finding this yard and the container with the number IES-368 had been child's play, just like finding another hidden access panel at its back and entering the last of Ratchet's codes.

Now, sitting in a large metal container on top of a flatbed trailer, cuddled into a warming blanket, I had time to think, although I couldn't tell whether that was something good or something bad. If everything went according to plan, I would be picked up in a few hours- as Ratchet had stated, humans could be very discreet if paid adequately- in Oakland, this container would be loaded onto a ship and from there my journey would continue to Esmeraldas, Ecuador. Another truck would take me near some backwater town somewhere in the Andes and there, far away from civilization, I would hide. _If_ the plan worked out. I wasn't too sure if it was a good idea to leave my escape in human hands though, humans whose loyalty belonged to the highest bidder, even if there seemed to be some don't-ask-don't-tell-agreement between them and Ratchet.

Well, I couldn't really hope he had more alien friends who would be willing to help me, I didn't think I would want anyone who wasn't involved yet to join the conflict anyway, not with what had happened to Chelsea, Nwym and Rokin. And yet I had somehow managed to drag Bumblebee into this mess... he would probably not help me as much and as obviously as Ratchet but that was alright, none of this was actually his fault after all. I sighed. And if it didn't work out?

Well, that would probably be catastrophic; my fuel tank seemed to turn over within me as I imagined the container being opened and Prime's arrogant visage staring down at me, my screams meeting deaf audios when I was pulled against his powerful chassis. A heavy tremble made my protoform rattle a little. If I was caught and Prime would force himself on me again, I would most likely soon be carrying his offspring and then it would be even more difficult to run away- neither could I birth and care for the sparkling on my own, nor did I want to leave my child knowing it would be raised by those barbaric mechs.

I had to remain without offspring, it was the only acceptable way. Still, even if I reached the mountains without the Autobots finding out, what then? Sure, I could hide there, but for how long? Earth was too small and a Cybertronian's life was too long; one day I would be found if I didn't find a way to leave the planet. Ratchet's promise to 'think of something', whatever that was supposed to mean, didn't really help.

But for now, there was nothing for me to do. I just sat there for hours, inspecting what else had been stored in the container: a lot of oil which, Ratchet had told me, was absolutely drinkable although I would need much more of it to cover my energy requirements but was not as suspicious as a truckload of energon... anyways, it would be enough for the first three months; furthermore, there were some blankets against the cold, some battery- powered lanterns, a few thick camouflage tarpaulins, a large bag, a long rope, a small welder that even fit into my subspace pocket, a transformer- sized ax, a large knife and, thankfully, a key to those stupid handcuffs I had still been wearingwhen I arrived at the yard.

I closed my hand around the knife's grip and picked it up carefully. It was quite long, almost as long as my whole lower arm and when I pulled it from its sheath I could see the blade was covered in dull green paint- that was probably not bad, considering a shiny silver blade could be spotted easily even from a large distance. I had to learn how to be invisible, how not to leave any traces, not to make any unnecessary noise. Plain and simple, I had to learn how to just disappear.

A noise from outside made me raise my head; human voices, muffled but audible, the low rumble of a truck engine, hissing brakes. After a few minutes the trailer jerked with a loud click and not long after that I felt the truck which was now connected to the trailer move slowly with a roar of its engine. I was on my way.

It had been two days ago that I had fled from the Autobot base and there had been no sign whatsoever of my location having been discovered. I still didn't feel as happy as I probably should have- maybe, deep down I knew I was heading for a dead end? Or maybe it was just the inability to really do something about the situation myself. Maybe I didn't feel ready to live somewhere in the wilderness all alone...

But no, considering the alternative to the current circumstances, this was definitely the better choice, even if I knew it wouldn't be easy. I steadied myself as the large container ship I was on swayed a little on the huge waves of the ocean. If I actually reached the Andes and managed to hide there, what would I do if I ran out of fuel and replenishment couldn't be delivered? Would I have to go to the next town and lower myself to stealing from what little the people living there had? Or what if I got injured? There were too many risks to consider...

For several days, there was nothing but the constant mumble of the large ship engines, the whooshing noise of the ocean outside and the wind whistling through the gaps between the containers. I refrained from trying to find out where exactly the ship was since I feared I could be detected if I tried to connect to a satellite or anything else and so there was nothing for me to do save for twiddling my thumbs.

Something moved to my left so I turned my head to see what it was. It was a roach, a fat, brown roach looking for something edible in the folds of one of the tarpaulins, waggling its feelers attentively, its flat, brown wings glowing pink in the dim light. I kept watching the tiny animal until it disappeared between the oil canisters again. Had I still be human, I would have been a bit antsy knowing I was sleeping in a place crawling with bugs but now I didn't really mind. After all, what was supposed to happen? The roach couldn't bite me nor would I be in any danger of catching a disease the little vermin might carry, so what.

I leaned back against the striated container wall once more. Ratchet had been right, this was boring. But now that I had something I could hang on to, a glimmer of hope, I could still dream.

I woke up when a jolt rocked the container. What was happening? It was 05:00 in the morning, so... seagulls were screeching, people were yelling, the air smelled like salty water, exhaust fumes and concrete... and of fish. The container was moving- could this possibly be the harbor of Esmeraldas already? Obviously, my container was being lifted off the ship to be stored somewhere else for the time being before it would be loaded onto another truck. So, after a few hours of waiting, I was on the move again. The roads became more and more run down with every mile, the truck bumped through potholes while one turn after the other continued to throw me around in the trailer and by the end of the day the road didn't even seem to be tarred anymore, the sound of loose gravel scrunching beneath the tires interlacing with the clacking noise of the motor.

All in all, the drive from the harbor to my final destination took two more days. One hour after I heard the truck drive away from the trailer, I finally dared to open the flap at the back and risk a peek. It was getting dark again, but I could still see dark mountains rising all around me, high and jagged, hemmed with dense forest. The air smelled unfamiliar, of plants, animals and soils I had never before encountered in my life. Except for the leaves rustling in the trees, it was absolutely quiet, the air felt chilly. So this would be my new home. Quaint.

I spent the night in the trailer since dark had fallen quickly and I didn't want to run around in a impracticable area such as this if I didn't even know where I was going. I waited until dawn, then I got going so I could start exploring the area. The plan was to find some place to store the stuff from the trailer because who knew when the thing would be picked up again. That task would probably take a whole day, but then I would at least have a first temporary base to work with. I stuffed the rope and a canister of oil into the bag and attached the ax to its side with one of the multiple straps attached to it, then I tied the knife to my left hip and scanned my current environment briefly to ensure I would find the trailer again (a narrow gravel road that was cutting through the vegetation, the trailer was parked in a rather small cutout, half hidden in the bushes surrounding it) before I took off into the woods.

**As you know, I'm always glad to receive reviews, please tell me what you think or if you spotted any mistakes.  
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	17. The Hunt

Finally, after all this time, I managed to write this chapter. I had a lot to do lately (and I still do, but maybe I'll still be able to get some writing done...), I didn't even have a computer for about a year. I have to make use of the depressive/aggressive mood I develop whenever I'm at "home" though. From now, I reckon the story should take up speed. So, for all of you who have waited for ages or stumbled across this story just now: enjoy :)

**Transformers belongs to Hasbro/Takara.**

**The Dark Horizon**

**Chapter 17: The Hunt**

There were two hideouts I had been using during the past eight months. One was in a valley, a few miles away from the street, the entrance a narrow crack in a steep rock wall, hidden by the dense shrubbery of the forest. Not only was it my primary living space, it was also the biggest of my five oil deposits. Additionally, there was a small hole in the back of the cave which led to a complicated and partially flooded tunnel system which would make an excellent opportunity to escape in case I got trapped in the cave. The other hideout was located halfway up one of the bigger mountains, where the rocky flanks were covered by grass and hard shrubs that were used to the harsh climate up in the heights. It was much colder up here than it was in the valleys, the wind was harsh, during a storm boulders would fall off the steep overhangs, their sounds not unlike thunder rolling overhead. The weather could be frightening around this area. It happened quite often it would change all of a sudden and one could do nothing but seek shelter and wait until it was save to go outside again.

Miraculously, there were all sorts of plants and animals living and thriving in these surroundings: there were large bromeliads, some standing as tall as myself, some growing on the branches of the trees in the forests. There were many different kinds of lichen and grass, large trees and bushes, all those plants providing shelter and food for highly specialized animals such as vicunias, bears, tapirs and humming birds. It seemed like a miracle that, no matter how unfriendly and unpredictable the weather could be, how sparse the food was and how hard it must have been, especially for fragile, organic creatures, to simply _be_ in this environment, the animals would still always find a way to feed, bring up their young or, simply put, to survive. They usually avoided me as I avoided them, there had been only one incident not long after I had arrived here when I had accidentally walked in on a mother bear and her cub. She would have attacked me, would have fought to her death to protect her child, even though her teeth and claws couldn't possibly have penetrated my metal skin. I had chosen to retreat quickly though, there was no point in fighting.

Whenever I thought about her, I imagined what I would do in a similar situation. If I had a child of my own and that child was threatened by a, to me, invincible enemy, would I have the courage to fight, knowing it would be futile? Not that I was planning on having any offspring.

My days in the mountains were long and lonely. I never encountered anyone, no one ever came to this remote place and the only thing granting me comfort every few months was the occasional datapad from Ratchet accompanying the monthly oil deliveries once in a while. He wrote about how everybody was searching for me, how they had erected energon detectors all over the world and word of me going missing had somehow spread to the Decepticons so now they too were looking for me. Autobot or Decepticon, it didn't actually matter to me for now, every member of my species was an enemy and potential threat to me. I had suffered through the Autobots' hands, I had enough of that shit and I wanted nothing more than to be left alone... still, I knew that they would find me eventually, after all they knew I couldn't leave the planet on my own. All I could do was staying where I was, exploring the area, making preparations for the very likely event of me being discovered- and hoping. Hoping for someone or something, for a way or even for a sign I could make it out of this situation alive, well and in freedom. However, I felt like my chances were dwindling with every single day I kept thinking about a solution in vain. All in vain, always.

I spent many hours working out escape routes or building enormous traps in the surrounding forest. They weren't big enough to kill a male Cybertronian, but they would do to stun or even severely injure them if I was lucky and that might provide me with more time to escape. Either way, it would only elongate my time of freedom for a few weeks, maybe only for days, hours or minutes. I would get caught if no one turned up to help me, it was inevitable.

Sometimes I dreamt of my father coming to get me, taking me far out into space to a secret place where we could hide, but that was all there was to it: it was nothing but a beautiful dream. He wouldn't come. He wouldn't rescue me.

So there I was, sitting on my makeshift bed made of rocks, twigs and grass, working on a new sculpture. Carving the wood was easy for me, the blade of my knife cut the wood smoothly, shaping it after my imagination. I had already made 43 of these wooden figures, this was number 44. Most of them were animals, many birds... swallows, cranes, eagles, sparrows, geese, humming birds, the list was long. This one was humanoid though, but I hadn't yet decided whether it would be bot or human. I looked up from my work when booming thunder split the silence of the night, I pulled my thermal blanket tighter around my shoulders. The cold didn't affect me as much as in my younger days, but it was still uncomfortable and I used to spend the nights in one of my hideouts, even if I didn't recharge much. I was afraid of closing my optics at night, I feared the dreams my processor would produce, the memories it would bring back whenever I slept. Screams. Pain. His unforgiving blue optics. The worst thing about it was the realization after waking up, the knowledge that my nightmares had been and would be so very real. More often than not I would wake up screaming, cry until I became too exhausted to stay awake, fall asleep and start all over again.

I felt tired most of the time. Still I kept pushing myself, kept moving forward one step at a time. I kept reinforcing the hideouts and traps, picking up and dividing the oil deliveries whenever they came, exploring and carving sculptures. I tried to keep my processor occupied... however, when everything was silent and there was nothing left to do, my thoughts would inevitably go back to the things that had happened. I often wondered why fate had chosen to make me the victim of its cruelties, why I was the last known femme in the universe. I wondered why it was so important to Prime and the others that the species survived anyway. Our kind was dangerous to itself and every other people in the universe, just like humans but with a greater potential for complete and utter destruction. Why preserve something that brought so much woe to the world? What would we gain? Temporary power for the few leaders, first and foremost the Prime? Was that worth it? To some it obviously was.

The sculpture I was making had taken the rough form of a robot. I paused and turned it in my hands, thinking. Everything would have been so much easier had there not been the war. The war hadn't been had there not been the unjust society of Cybertron, forged by ancient law. The law hadn't been had there not been the Prime. Yes. All in all, everything, down to the deaths of every soldier, civilian or child, was a consequence of the oppressive rule of the Primes. And thus, I thought, the world would be a brighter place if the Prime perished. There would be chaos for a while, exceeding the current situation, established structures being overthrown but then, then the Cybertronians would have a chance. Maybe not a chance at survival, but of ending it all in peace. But fact was: the Prime lived and the Prime commanded his army.

I glared at the piece of wood in my hands, digging my claws deep into the soft material so it creaked and cracked. Death to tyranny, death to oppression, death to the Prime. The sculpture burst into pieces in my steel grip, I hurled its pieces into the next corner. I stared at my hands for a moment... I had grown much stronger in the past months. Still, I would be no match for any bot if I didn't actually learn how to fight efficiently and as there was no one to teach me, well, it was pretty much self- explanatory. Deciding I needed to cool down a bit, I stood up and left the cave, climbing the stone wall at its entrance until I reached a small plateau about 230 feet above ground. The rain was pouring down on me, heavy as lead, cold as ice. The dirt my protoform was covered with came off slowly... I used to hide my shiny metal skin beneath a layer of mud so I couldn't be spotted easily. But now that it was dark and the clouds were obscuring even the satellites' view, I felt save enough to get it off, even if it would be just for a while. I was feeling dirty, and not merely on the outside. My hands were scrubbing at my protoform furiously while bolts of lightning brightened the night every few seconds. It was a frightening, but all the while beautiful display as the black mountains clashed with the momentarily white sky, as the elements raged as if they wanted to see the world collapsed and destroyed. I liked the rain, it provided cover so I couldn't be seen and its infernal noise drowned out every sound I could possibly produce... it helped me to become invisible, to just disappear.

I wished I could wash away the pain, the scars and the hate though just as I was washing off the dirt, yet I knew it was not possible to ever get rid of this... sullied part of my soul, ever. My secret yearning for revenge and spilt energon proved it. I had been changed and never again would I be who I used to be. I couldn't have known back then, but the day I had trusted Optimus Prime to protect me, the day I had followed him had been the day I had signed Joelle Dahle's death sentence. Now, Joelle was no more, all that remained was Alpha. A fugitive, an outlaw. A Cybertronian.

"My name is Alpha." I said quietly, then raised my voice and screamed. "I AM ALPHA!" The thunder drowned out my words.

XXXXXXXXXX

It was in the thirteenth month that the oil deliveries ceased. At first I didn't think much of it for the trucks had never been punctual to the day to begin with. However, after days had turned into weeks and my oil supplies were diminished to a minimum, I seriously began to worry. What had gone wrong? Had someone found about how Ratchet was secretly having the fuel delivered or had the freight been stopped by customs or another bureaucratic barrier? One questions was nagging at my processor most though: what was I supposed to do now? I had already shortened my daily rations dramatically, still what I had left would let me survive for two more weeks at best. I only had two options: stay and hope for the next delivery to arrive, and if it didn't, starve, or leave and search for sufficient nourishment myself. Either one was extremely risky and it took more than one week for me to decide, one week during which I suffered growing weakness and hunger. Everything just kept getting harder and harder for me, my body felt heavy, my processor numb. I had to recharge more frequently and for longer periods of time to try and make up for the lack of feeding, but it didn't help much- sometimes I felt so weak I wasn't so sure anymore whether or not I would wake up at all. All the while, my fuel tank kept churning painfully. What I wouldn't have done for some

sweet, rich energon...

But then, after a particularly miserable recharge cycle, I made up my mind. It was time to leave. I had to- in order to survive. So, at nightfall, I drank as much of the remaining oil as I dared to, ignoring the stale taste, packed whatever I thought I needed and could carry and deserted my hideout. Carrying my heavy bag (and myself) through the dense bush proved to be more of a challenge than I had anticipated and I was slow in my efforts to reach civilization. My steps had become slow and clumsy, I had to fight hard to resist the urge to just sit down and rest- after two days I had reached a stage where I knew I wouldn't be able to get back up if I did. So I kept dragging myself along. At some point I even gave up hiding in the forest beside the long gravel road leading through the mountains, merely ducking back into the vegetation whenever I heard a vehicle approaching, which was only twice. The street was anything but even, although walking there was of course much easier than in the forest. Sometimes the rain was beating down on me, sometimes the strong wind almost blew me off my legs, but I didn't give up. I kept walking, on and on. By the end of the third day I ran out of oil completely. This was it- if I didn't find anything to fuel up on tonight, I would fall into stasis and, eventually, die. But it seemed fate didn't want me to leave this world just yet. For just as the sun was starting to set, I rounded a corner and there my hazy optics noticed an irregularity on the road: there were deep marks in the gravel as the tires of a truck would create if dragged over the road sideways forcefully, the tracks leading off the road towards the steep slope to its side where the shredded remains of a few young trees were a foreboding sign of disaster. Quickly I made my way over to the edge and looked down. A few hundred feet down from where I was standing, a truck was half embedded in the bush, badly damaged and lying on its side, every single plant in between the truck and the road brutally smashed. It was a truck just like the one Ratchet always had someone hire for the oil deliveries.

I didn't waste much time before starting my descend, holding on to what remains of crushed trees and shrubs I could find. By the time I reached the battered truck, my arms and legs were shaking from exhaustion and I had to hold on to one of the trailer's wheels and wait until the vertigo passed. I didn't actually need to look into the cab to know what had happened to the human driver for the smell of rotting flesh already told most of the story and flies were buzzing all over the place, nevertheless I checked to be absolutely sure there were no survivors. I turned back quickly after one short glance. I didn't really want to see the details. The truck had come to a stop as its roof had crashed into a large tree. The tree, I reckoned, would hold its weight easily so it would be safe to try and get into the trailer and see if this really was the oil truck, but the problem was not the truck's position but its many dents- it was deformed to an almost unrecognizable state. Therefore it was not very surprising that I could _not_ simply open the hatch at the back although I tried several times with growing desperation. If this really was the truck sent by Ratchet, then everything able to prevent my imminent offlining due to exhaustion and starvation lay behind this thin layer of metal making up the trailer's plating and I was too weak to penetrate it. It was ridiculous, sardonic, not funny at all. By now I was very sure of this being the right truck for I could feel the bottom side of the trailer being oily- certainly some of the containers must have burst during the accident, spilling their contents and now seeping out onto the forest floor, drop by drop.

I desperately tried to open the hatch but couldn't- in the end I tried another approach though and simply pounded the hinges on one side with the blunt side of my axe. It pretty much required all the strength I had left, but seeing it seemed to promise success so I actually managed to give the metal a few good whacks before ramming the remains of a large branch into the crack that had opened and using it as a lever so I could pry it open and finally, with a loud bang, the upper hatch was dislodged and I could climb into the trailer. It was a mess- the usually so neatly stacked oil containers scattered everywhere, many of them broken, making it hard to actually set foot on the inside of the trailer.

I eased myself into the trailer so as to not be visible from the road, stumbled on the scattered containers but stayed on my knees and screwed the cap off a random container before I brought it to my lips greedily and started emptying it. The first one was empty quickly and I finished another one halfway before I put it down and let myself fall back on my bum and rest my back against the still closed second door of the trailer. I couldn't remember ever feeling so full… after a quick nap (I didn't dare to actually get too comfortable in the truck for didn't want to risk being discovered by rescuers) I drank the rest of the second container and stuffed my backpack with a few of them. It would be smartest, I reckoned, to first empty the whole truck and hide the oil somewhere nearby so I could take my time with actually carrying it all back to my hideouts- the large, hollowed out tree trunk I discovered a short distance downhill would do for now.

However, when I returned to the truck to get the fifth load of oil and started taking containers out of the large pile at the front, I made a disturbing discovery because as I lifted one of the containers, a part of some weird device appeared, still halfway buried in the pile. Thinking it was something from Ratchet I pulled it out carefully and took a look at it. It was about the size of my lower arm albeit a bit thinner, it had a little screen embedded in the middle and both the top and bottom half were enclosed by long metal strips. I had never seen one of those before and I had no idea what it was good for, but only a few seconds after I touched it the screen lit up and a few cybertronian glyphs appeared, a little red light started blinking.

"Cybertronian lifeform detected." Just as I read it, all the metal strips just sprang off the device and started moving frantically with a life of their own. I let go of the device immediately, yelped and scurried backwards quickly, away from that freaky thing but- believe it or not- the metal strips, winding like snakes now, followed me. I tried to climb out of the trailer hastily, but looking back I noticed the first of those snake- things had already reached my foot, so I kicked at it, but that didn't really stop them. In a panic now I more fell than climbed out and started running, the snakes hard on my heels. I may even have outrun them if my foot hadn't been caught in an old root sticking out of the ground, causing me to fall. They were all over me within the blink of an eye. I screamed, I thrashed, tried to get them off but as soon as I managed to get a hold on one and throw it away, it was back before I even had the chance to grab another. They were not actually hurting me, but latching on to me, wrapping themselves around my arms, legs and neck and the more of them latched onto me, the faster they seemed to move- or was I getting slower? Something was interfering with my motor functions in any case. Finally I smashed one of them so hard with my elbow it released its grip on my ankle and fell to the ground sparking and twitching.

With every second the remaining snakes were attached to me however, I felt like I was getting weaker, their effect on my systems growing stronger continuously. I fought vigorously and tried to get rid of all of them, still I found that by the time there was only one left my strength was drained to a point where I could barely move anymore. It was on my right wrist and, for fuck's sake, I just couldn't get it off, not by pulling, not by clawing or beating. In the end, my wrist looked more battered than the wicked little machine so in a last desperate attempt to rid myself of it, I just bit it as hard as I still could. A jolt of electricity went through my mouth, jaw and entire head as its outer hull was pierced, I bit down even harder until it at last ceased to function and I peeled it off my arm.

I fell back down to the ground, completely and utterly spent and confused. What had just happened? Ratchet couldn't have possibly sent me that vile thing, so that meant... someone else had. Someone who suspected the oil was meant for me and smuggled the device into the trailer to confirm their suspicion. And as it seemed, their plan had come to fruition. I remembered the time when Ratchet had explained the do's and don'ts of commlinking with the major rule of not being able to use it secretly if someone was in very close proximity, most of all if someone was standing between the sender and recipient. I remembered because I felt something emanating from the device in the trailer, I hadn't sensed it earlier in my panic.

It was sending a signal. And that was not good. I quickly got my axe, pulled the device out of the trailer and onto the ripped up forest floor and smashed it to bits until the red light went out. But I knew it was too late- it had had at least ten or fifteen minutes to send its transmission. Which meant I didn't have a lot of time to come up with a plan.

XXXXXXXXXX

Branches and leaves were pummelling my face while I ran through the forest. The time for creeping about was over, now all that counted was speed. As I had feared, it hadn't taken long for what seemed to be the entire Autobot army to respond to the signal and start a search operation, the long distance between their base and the Andes being no challenge for their cybertronian aircraft. In other words: I was screwed, and thoroughly so.

At least I'd had time to refuel properly before starting my sprint back to the area where I'd spent the past months, which now didn't seem to be half the distance away as when I'd walked the other way, half starved. However, it was still a several- hour- run but I figured that if I had any chance of escaping, it would be there. The beacon had been sent from the overturned truck many miles from my hideouts' location and they didn't know the area like I did.

I was close to my stomping ground now and the screaming jet engines overhead gave my legs unknown speed. I was starting my descend to the river I had to cross if I didn't want to use the road when I heard something crashing into some trees nearby. I about doubled my pace downhill, lost my grip on the steep ground and slid down the slope to the river where I remained hidden in between the shrubbery at the shore- which was a good thing I realized immediately as a red and light brown jet I had never seen before flew overhead. Flying Autobots? I hoped not. I ducked back into the bush until they were gone, then I stepped out into the shallow river slowly. Nothing to the right, nothing to the- I froze. A bot was standing in the river, the water just barely reaching his ankles. It was Prowl. He started running towards me and as I turned back to where I'd come from I saw another bot, Hound, approaching, a third one, Blaze, covered the opposite shore. I turned right and started running along the river, the three mechs hard on my heels. Hound, being the only one with a four wheel drive vehicle mode, transformed and tried to catch up with me driving but the stones of the riverbed were just too loose and even he was stuck after just a few meters and had to change back into bipedal form.

The water was splashing all around me as I ran, dodging the nets the three Autobots were shooting at me. Thankfully I was much faster on my feet than they were and got a good head start before the river lost much of its width and gained depth, slowing me down considerably. It didn't matter much though since I had almost reached the high ridge the river tumbled down and into a deep basin, however, when I started jumping from one boulder sticking out of the water to the next, the jet returned and accelerated towards me. Determination made me jump further, quicker. The combined noise of the roaring waterfall, the jet's screaming engines and my own whining cooling fans was deafening. Merely a few seconds before the plane could reach me I jumped, joining the white water on its insane flight down the cliff. The spray engulfed me, the wind rushed past me, the water's turbulent surface coming ever closer. I straightened my body and closed my optics before disappearing in the cold depths with a mighty splash, forcing the jet to perform a sharp turn. Its thrusters illuminated and curled the surface from up above while I dived right down to the bottom and pulled myself along on the boulders and gravel under water. And there I stayed: under water. I swam as quickly as I could, not daring to return to the surface in fear of being discovered. I couldn't believe I had actually been found, didn't want to believe it. But apparently, reality was catching up with me: They were here. They were all here.

After a few miles I swam to the shore, pulled myself up into the low branches of a tree growing just above the water and looked back. I had lost them- for now. At least I now was much closer to my valley hideout and if the Autobots were dumb enough, and I was absolutely sure they were, to enter my "safe zone"... well. Unfortunately, my enemies seemed very intent on proving how dumb they really were. And so the hunt began. Luck and time would tell who was the hunter, who the hunted.

XXXXXXXXXX

It was almost laughable how loud the Autobots were as they moved through the rainforest. They were too big, too heavy, too clumsy to move with the soundlessness I had acquired during the long months of me living here. Here, in this forest, in these mountains, they were on my turf- and I didn't take kindly to trespassers. For hours I led them in circles, awaiting dusk. The dark was not as serious a problem for cybertronian optics as it was for human eyes, but still sight would be reduced, everything would turn from colorful to black and white and that would make it easier for me to slip past them unnoticed. They were comming each other constantly, I could sense the radio waves going back and forth in the forest. They tried to surround me several times but I was just too quick, knew the area too well. Still I also knew I wouldn't be able to do this forever. I would grow tired eventually but unlike them, I didn't have reinforcements. I had to lose them completely and get as far away from this place as possible. It was time, I thought when I noticed the sun touching the mountain tops in the west, for them to experience my adventure park.

They were moving about in teams of three, several aircraft were patrolling the skies, but the fliers couldn't see beneath the mighty green crowns and they were only few and scattered places where they could land. Concerning the others, I couldn't possibly take them on all at once but I was sure that if I could lure them into my traps separately, I could stop one team after another, long enough for me to escape anyway. After I decided on this change of strategy, I didn't have to wait long for the opportunity to set my plan in motion. Once I got the ball rolling, this would be quick.

The first team I let myself be seen by was Ironhide's. He had Tokeion and Grapple with him. Of course, once they spotted me they gave chase and called for backup. Well, backup wouldn't be there quick enough, what a pity.

Again they tried to bring me down with nets, with sedation darts as well I think, but for every shot there was a nice tree, shrub or bundle of lichen just in the way. They might have gotten a clear shot on the clearing I was now crossing, had I not installed my first nasty surprise there. I only heard the half surprised, half terrified yelps of the mechs behind me and the rustling of leaves as they stepped on the small pieces of wood I had knowingly avoided which, thanks to the Autobots' weight, sunk into the soft forest floor a bit and thus pulled the almost invisible little string which immediately triggered the simple but reliable mechanism I had come up with which in turn released the rope holding some large branches bent downwards to which the strong snares on the ground were fixed. throwing a brief glance backwards I assessed I had been almost successful: Tokeion, being the smallest of the three, was hanging from a tree by his leg completely while Grapple still had one foot on the ground, the other pulled high up at an awkward angle. Ironhide however had somehow dodged the snares and now transformed to make use of the short patch of even ground ahead, motor roaring like a feral beast as he was gaining on me. Just what I had expected someone to do in this alley.

A hearty sideways swing of my axe knocked the heavy stone out of its burrow, the stone having held a solid piece of wood wedged underneath a fat root to which a solid rope weaved of countless strips of young bark was tied which, over several handmade pulleys, was holding a very, very solid tree trunk suspended up in the trees, which now of course came crashing down with all its might, swinging backwards as it went and hitting Ironhide right in the bumper, hood and windscreen. Ropes ripped, metal crunched, the first team was down.

The second team, led by Sideswipe, was there almost immediately, being the closest and therefore first to respond to the call for backup. They too were taken care of soon by luring them into a steep dead end and letting a cascade of boulders rain down on them. Funny how I had invested so many hours in all of these traps and how it was all over so quickly. But they were working and that was all that mattered. I didn't think about the fact that I was actually causing injury and pain, not much at anyway- besides, I wasn't sure if I even cared anymore.

The third team almost posed a problem though, not because they knew how to move in the forest (well, one of them, being an expert scout, I supposed wasn't half bad at it but it didn't seem like he was actually trying), but because of the mechs the team consisted of: Bumblebee, Swerve and Optimus Prime. I actually was reluctant to hurt Bumblebee and I was afraid I wouldn't be able to keep a cool head and follow my own plan in the presence of the Prime. Facing my worst nightmare I was in acute danger of freezing on the spot and peeing myself. But no, that was unacceptable. No more fear, no more captivity, no more mercy. My bravery was almost blown into the wind though as I wan past the third team and my optics met the Prime's for the fraction of a second.

Wasn't it hopeless anyway? How could I be so foolish as to believe I could possibly defeat him? But, I thought, that was exactly what he wanted me to think, wasn't it? I didn't want to play his games, no. No mercy. Not for Optimus Prime. Small trees and big branches were crashing to the ground behind me as he swirled around to come after me and started slicing through the forest with his swords to make room for his big, bulky self. Still he was slow and the others I didn't even grant the time to develop speed before they reached the "drop zone". There, held by a myriad of ropes, exactly 32 big and heavy logs hung in the treetops, just waiting for me to cut them loose. By connecting several ropes, I had reduced them to merely three, fastened to the bottom of a tree. I didn't waste time to hack at them with my axe.

Miraculously, only Swerve was hit though, with Bumblebee and Prime diving out of the way in time. The Autobot commander rolled back onto his feet with unbelievable speed and, swords drawn, came at me, backing me into a tree.

"Well played, Alpha. I clearly underestimated your capability of mischief. But now it's over. Surrender." It was almost completely dark by now, his icy optics were illuminating his masked face eerily. It was awfully quiet- all the animals must have fled from the highly unusual ruckus going on in their home, even the wind seemed to hold its breath. I smirked. As insane as it sounded, I actually smirked and let him come just a bit closer.

"Only a fool thinks himself a winner when he has lost and lost you have, _Prime_." And with that I brought the axe down on the fourth rope; there was a reason after all why I had let him herd me to this specific tree. His expression when he finally understood what I had done was priceless before the huge log stuck him in the helm from above and brought him down. It only managed to stun him temporarily, but the time I had was enough. Bumblebee, I noticed, hadn't moved from the spot where he had landed after jumping out of the way so as not to be hit by the logs- he had been watching the whole thing. I looked into his optics and he into mine, then he threw himself down beside one of the logs, held his head and moaned. I smiled and took off.

It didn't take long until I had the next team chasing me. The only problem being that Jazz was part of the team, I changed direction and didn't lead them into the next trap- he was too small and therefore able to weave between the trees much quicker than the other Autobots and I was much closer to my hideout than to the next array of traps. I almost didn't manage to squeeze through the narrow entrance before he reached the rock wall and shoved his arm through to grab me for he himself was too big to get inside the cave. Snarling with frustration he retreated from the crack in the rock as I moved back into the shadows of my home. I was just going to quickly grab the long rope from one corner of the cave when a loud explosion seemed to rock the entire mountain and what used to be my living room was bombarded with rocks and dust as the entrance was blasted open. Only moments later, Jazz stormed in, his gun glowing eagerly. I stepped back- he couldn't see me with what little remaining daylight was surrounding him and me hiding in the shadows. He was blocking my escape route, I felt myself panicking. I had to be fast if I wanted to take him by surprise.

Soundlessly, I grasped my knife. This was risky- I wasn't a fighter, not like him, and I wouldn't get a second chance. I awaited the moment when he would turn around halfway, the corner I was hiding in slipping from his focus as he checked the other side of the cave, then I charged and, with all my strength, rammed my knife between the armored plates below his right arm. He yowled in agony, hot energon spurting from the deep wound, and whirled around, but I had already rounded him and smashed the axe down on his knee before I bolted for the tunnel entrance at the back of the cave. My impact with the cold stone floor was brutal when Jazz, lying on the floor now, grabbed my ankle and pulled me towards him. I kicked at his face but he just wouldn't let go- until there was another explosion outside and the sudden sound of battle. He seemed just as confused as I was for a moment, which I, snapping out of the momentary stupor, used to my advantage and kicked him in the head violently. He let go, I stumbled to my feet and ran. The last thing I saw before I entered the tunnel was a pair of blood red optics staring into the cave.

XXXXXXXXXX

Nothing could penetrate the everlasting silence, the darkness and the cold in the caverns below the mountain. For hours I wandered, climbed and swam through the endless tunnels, jumping down a waterfall blindly here and squeezing through a narrow passage there. I was glad I had managed to bring the rope despite everything since there were a few overhangs that were just to tough to climb without aid. But at least I was alone. No one would be able to follow me here, no one. It was both comforting and unsettling at the same time. In a way, it reminded me of room 101.

The blankness in my mind was chased away by euphoria when I suddenly spotted a tiny little bluish light. Finally: the exit. It was the middle of the night, but the moonlight was still bright as day compared to the pitch black tunnels. Very carefully, I crawled outside. There was no one around. Maybe the Autobots had given up? Maybe they were still searching near the hideout? I felt victorious, exalted. I had made it. I had actually outwitted Optimus Prime and his Autobots, had won the hopeless battle. Now I stepped out into the open fully and let the cool night air dance over my face. For the first time in many hours, I actually felt how tired and bruised all my limbs felt, how the crazy hunt was taking its toll on my still slightly underenergized body. I didn't let that trouble me now though and gazed up into the sky with a smile on my lips. The stars had never been so beautiful and for one wonderful moment everything seemed to be alright.

The tunnel exit lay in the side of a mountain bordering on a wide strip of open land, the forest was about half a mile away. Protected by the dark, I was sure I could get there unnoticed and sneak off. Boy, was I wrong.

By the time I heard the jet behind me it was already too late, had I still been closer to the tunnel I could have retreated back into the mountain to hide, but it was too late for that now so I did the only thing I could. I ran. Unfortunately, you cannot simply outrun a jet out in the open. When its engines got louder and louder, I grasped my axe firmly in both hands with the intention of hacking my attacker to pieces midair, but it never came to that. Instead, something crashed against my back and grabbed me, lifted me up into the air. The sudden acceleration made me dizzy, the disappearing ground beneath me looked blurred for a moment as the flier took me high up into the air. I had dropped my axe at the impact and my captor's arms were locked around me so tightly I couldn't move. Suddenly, we were surrounded by other jets, all I could see of them being the blurred fire of their thrusters. The next moment, there was another impact as a second flier crashed into us and started grappling with my captor mid- air, I was dropped, only to be caught a few hundred feet below by the next flier, bridal style.

I looked up at his face. Red optics glowed back at me. Decepticon. I screamed and started thrashing, he lost his grip on me and I fell again. The next one caught me by the ankle and, gaining height upside- down, I watched as at least a hundred mechs stormed onto the plain beneath and opened fire. The night was suddenly ablaze with lasers, fusion cannons and tracer ammunition. And while the battle on the ground was unfolding, the air was humming with the fliers and I felt like I had fallen into an oversized wasps' nest. Like a helpless doll I was thrown to another transformed jet. It was all too much, too fast, I lost orientation, didn't know what was going on anymore. Then, a stray shot pierced the flier's wing, he screamed, started spinning uncontrollably and fell. He didn't let go of me though, pressing me hard against his chest instead and taking me down with him. We were racing towards the ground and the battling bots there and I was sure that, this time, I was definitely going to die. In the last possible second though, the crashing flier turned his back towards the ground, powered up his thrusters and sent us flying backwards and parallel to the flat ground below.

The impact was rough, but I wasn't injured as he curled around me and protected me with his own body. The mechs on the ground jumped out of the way hastily as we slid along the ground, but as soon as we came to a stop we were surrounded by a group of Autobots instantly. They formed a tight circle around us, facing outward, shoulder to shoulder, weapons aimed at their enemies. I struggled, but the mech below me just wouldn't let go; only when Prowl entered the circle and took me from his arms did he release me.

"Get Hound over here, Fireflight is damaged!" he shouted over the noise of gunfire. I shook my head dizzily. It had all gone so fast, the reality of what had just happened was only starting to sink in. I was caught. How the hell had I been caught?! Trapped in Prowl's unforgiving grip, I raised my face towards the heavens and screamed a long, grievous scream. My wailing was ignored though. The battle raged around me, but my unwanted "bodyguards" kept everyone away from me. The fighting continued for a while but I waited for the opportunity to escape in vain.

"Retreat! Retreat!" I heard someone holler with a deep, raspy voice a few minutes later, then the noise of battle started fading and was finally replaced by the triumphant cheering of the Autobots. It didn't take long for an Autobot ship to land, I was enchained and loaded into the ship. Optimus Prime, one antenna bent painfully, was giving orders while the few damaged bots were carried through the loading area. A smirk danced over his lips when our optics met.

**Please review.**


	18. Inner Workings

**Transformers belongs to Hasbro/ Takara.**

**The Dark Horizon**

**Chapter 18: Inner Workings**

My return to the Autobot base in the desert was relatively casual, but I didn't exactly expect a big welcoming ceremony. Besides, I wasn't the only one who had inflicted damage on the mission and the Autobots' victory came at a price as there seemed to be quite a large number of injured mechs, maybe even a casualty or two. Who cared. Anyway that meant nobody really had time to acknowledge my arrival and I was merely locked away in a cell for now so I had a little bit of time to myself... Not that there was any way for me to utilize the time other than worrying about what lay ahead of me. In a way it didn't even feel real and I tried to keep telling myself that it really _was not_ real, no matter how much I knew that was nonsense. But one could always dream, I thought.

What passed as my trial was held several days later, but to me it of course was more of a mockery than anything- I didn't say a word. I couldn't be bothered. Everybody seemed tired, overworked and I doubted my "retrieval", as they called it, was the only reason for that, but that silly civil war they were fighting was none of my concern. They watershorted me and got me into room 101 for a while, but that wasn't what worried me. What worried me was what would come after that.

XXXXXXXXXX

The dark sofa I was curled up on was in fact quite comfortable, but that didn't mean I was able to recharge. I couldn't, knowing who was occupying the bed in the next room. What had happened several hours ago I tried to forget, but the painful throb in my body made that near impossible- I just lay there, for however long this night would last. When Prime got up in the "morning" (the day- night-cycle, I had noticed now that I could tell the time, was not consistent with earth's 24- hour- rhythm, it was rather an imitation of cybertronian planetary rotation which was a cycle of approximately 37.5 hours; maybe it had something to do with the biorhythm of the Autobots) and walked into the front room, I was still on the sofa, staring at the backrest. The automatic blinds on the large windows opened and let the main hangar's artificial light illuminate the room. The knot I held my limbs in grew even tighter when the side of my face was caressed lightly, I whimpered and tried to avoid his touch.

"Ironhide will be here to pick you up shortly." Optimus Prime said quietly. "I'll see you in the evening." With that said he went to the door.

"Fuck you." I heard him stop, but after a few seconds of silence, he just left. I waited until the echo of his footsteps out in the hallway had faded before I dared to move, I sat up slowly and rubbed my tired face with one hand. I winced as I stood up and crouched down beside the sofa for a moment until the sudden pain in my abdomen lessened. I wasn't damaged critically, not this time, but due to the sheer size difference between the Prime and me I still felt bruised inside and out. Slowly, very slowly, I pulled myself up on my feet and walked over to the window.

I felt disappearingly small in the large room with the Optimus Prime- sized furniture and the window that spanned the whole back wall. I felt like smashing some of his personal belongings to be honest, but there was hardly anything in his quarters qualifying for that activity. Besides, random destruction meant moving and moving meant pain, so... no. Tentatively, I placed my palm against the huge windowpane and scratched the glass, but one glance down where the glass met the floor revealed it was several inches thick, probably layered with plastic film to make it virtually unbreakable if one didn't have the firepower of the gigantic spaceship parked in the hangar below.

The emotional numbness I had been feeling started to vanquish quickly when the roof of the hangar slid open a bit and two small ships returned from patrol, letting the last rays of the evening sun in. I stared up at the opening in the ceiling, so very far away... in the Autobot base, a new day was just beginning while in the outside world it was coming to an end. If I were a ghost, I thought, I could just penetrate the massive glass wall in font of me and fly out into the orange- red sky. But I was here. I was trapped. And the fact that I could see the sky for a brief moment was no more than a lucky coincidence.

Just in that moment, the flexible fins my inner parts consisted of clenched in another random cramp and I went down on my knees, gasping. My fist hit the window, my jaws tight while I endured the this all my life would be now? Pain, fear? Obedience in the hope to avoid further punishment? Once more, I cursed Optimus Prime in every way I could possibly think of. It wasn't fair! I leaned forward until my forehead touched the cold glass, I screamed and wailed. Whatever had kept me quiet until now, it was gone. And once more I wished I still had tears to shed. Tears had the strange ability to wash the sorrow away, even if it was just symbolically- but there were no tears and so the grief lingered, joining the other pains in my spark to wreak further havoc on my mind.

XXXXXXXXXX

My ability to tell the time didn't help much now that I was back at the Autobot base. True, I could more or less tell when to expect Prime in the "evening", that was if he wasn't working overtime which happened rather frequently, but even though I knew how many days had passed since my capture, time just went by as a gray, monotonous soup. In the morning, I was usually picked up from the Prime's quarters by one of the officers or, in case Optimus took me to his office before he started his enormously long shift, by at least one guard and taken to the med bay for a checkup.

By now, there were strict orders against leaving me alone with Ratchet, there was to be no unsupervised interaction between the two of us. Logically, our conversations were thus limited to mere smalltalk and we more often than not chose to not speak at all whenever we saw each other, instead relying on the sparkbond we had. Words could be heard, commlinks detected- but there was no way for anyone outside the bond to notice a connection of sparks. It wasn't the same, however. It was emotions only for actual thoughts or plots were nothing the spark was concerned with. Ratchet couldn't talk to me via the bond, he could only feel and grant a little comfort.

I would then spend the day either pacing my old cell, sadly minus the datapads, or, if I was extremely lucky and there were heaps of mechs around, sitting in the rec room and watching the others refuel, talk or play games. There were a few mildly interesting things I learned of their conversations at times, mostly about human politics or about what the Decepticons had been up to, but of course these sources of information might have been inaccurate and biased. I myself didn't usually participate in social interactions of any kind there. I ignored my counterpart if I was spoken to or gave them monosyllabic answers at best. The only exception was a rather short talk I had with Perceptor, who rarely visited the rec room (because he pretty much lived in the laboratory downstairs I was told) and whom I asked a few questions about scientific subjects. He at first seemed to take delight in my interest for his work, but soon became annoyed with my "youthful unsophisticatedness and lacking scientific education". What a snobbish prick. And as the others tended to only, bluntly put, talk shit, I didn't even bother trying to actually get to know them better.

I thought about escaping countless times, my processor was constantly occupied with possible holes in the security or ways to at least harm certain despicable mechs surrounding me, but my creativity seemed to have left me. Everything seemed to become dull, even my cognitive functions.

Emotionally, I felt next to nothing by day- the night was the time when everything went crazy. As far as Optimus was concerned, his behavior was... very odd. Some nights he was just a cocky bastard, some nights he was rather quiet but still abused me halfheartedly and sometimes he ignored me altogether. In those nights he would just sit on the huge blue sofa in his "living room", sip a cube of high grade and stare at the wall until he fell into recharge. The next morning he would wake up complaining about his aching backstruts.

Those were my favorite nights, mostly because it meant one thing: I could recharge in peace. Not on the sofa (I tried to avoid being in the same room as him whenever I could) and not on his bed (I wasn't going anywhere near _that _voluntarily), but somewhere on the floor, preferably in the corner between the tall, dark weapons locker and the back wall because that spot at least gave me the illusion of a little safety. _I_ didn't have a sensitive back and could therefore recharge wherever I wanted. In theory. Anyway, I was glad when he left me alone, it almost felt... peaceful then.

To my relief, those nights seemed to become more and more common as the weeks and finally months passed and while he had forced me into his bed (or wherever he was inclined to molest me) every night at the beginning, sometimes even several times a night if he was feeling especially vigorous, he eventually seemed to lose interest, in a way.

I liked to believe I was doing a good job in making him feel sick of me, even if it was one hard piece of work. Sometimes I felt like giving up, like resigning but then I told myself that I would _not_ give up, that I would _always_ fight back. I had to in order to survive and it was the only thing that made sense.

You see, the violence worked in two ways: _he_ would punish _me_ for fighting him by manhandling me and _I _would punish _him_ for manhandling me by fighting him- and while he had the physical superiority, I had to have more endurance by default. The invader gives up the fight more easily than the invaded. I had my back against the wall and therefore _couldn't_ back down. This wasn't the kind of battlefield he was used to and in some weird way, that worked to my advantage. Besides, he had things to worry about other than subduing me while I could put all my energy into making his private life a living hell. Additionally, me being kind of successful resulted in one important change when it came to my fear of the Prime. Of course it was still there, true, but it had taken a backseat compared to my disgust and hatred. Why? Because I knew that it couldn't become any worse than it was now and I still lived. He wouldn't dare to do more than watershorting me, locking me up, taking me against my will and annoying me.

Of course I hadn't come to that conclusion right away, but the first time he didn't really seem to feel like it but still raped me, it had dawned on me. That he wanted me to have children he'd said himself. He had Ratchet examine me daily. The gestation pods in the med bay. Him _fulfilling his duty_ even if he didn't feel like it. He had a goal. And that goal wasn't the rape itself, but the result: sparklings. I felt stupid for not realizing it sooner. Of course, it had been crystal clear right from the beginning.

So for now my strategy remained trying to be as obnoxious as possible to demotivate him and while it might not have been a plan to escape, it at least gave me some room to think, because maybe I really _was_ wearing him down. There were many battles in a war however, not all of them could be won. And after about five months I suffered one especially catastrophic defeat.

XXXXXXXXXX

"I need to run another test." Ratchet said slowly after analyzing the readings of his scanners. I blinked. Swirl, who was on guard- the- femme- duty today, left his spot beside the door and came closer, clearly interested in the medic's proceedings.

"Is something... wrong?" I asked Ratchet cautiously. He retrieved another scanner from the opposite side of the room, a concerned look on his face, mirrored by what I could feel of his side of the bond.

"I just need to... please lay down flat on your back." He placed the scanner directly on my chest above my spark chamber. It was heavy and I felt a weird buzzing in my frame when it activated. I was worried and tried to push the dark suspicions back into the corners of my mind for if I let them take over, my countenance would show exactly how fragile it really was and panic would raise its ugly head. When the scan was complete, Ratchet removed the device and waited for the scanner to process its results. He had his back turned to me as he looked at the readings. I sat back up and waited, but he said nothing. When the silence started to become uncomfortable and I felt I couldn't bear it any longer, I nudged his spark worriedly, but he recoiled from the contact quickly.

"Ratchet?" My voice wavered. Within mere minutes, this had turned from a regular visit to the medbay into a moment of foreboding. I felt my sparkbeat quickening, my vents growing noisy. "Ratchet-" I repeated, desperation lacing the sound of my father's name. He didn't look at me when he spoke the words that shattered the fragile illusion of stability I had managed to force my mind into during the last weeks.

"The... the readings indicate a bipolar rearrangement of your inner spherical tendrils and a heightening of your spark energy.", he said. "In other words Alpha... you are carrying a newspark. It is merely a few days old." I stared at him, it took a moment for the meaning of those words to sink in. I was carrying, pregnant. A sparkling was growing beneath my chest plates. Prime's sparkling. I started shuddering.

"Well, congratulations." Swirl chuckled. "Was about time."

I was pregnant. My worst fears were tearing down all the walls I had built around myself to expose me to the merciless, destructive tidal wave called reality. I was pregnant. I was going to have a baby.

"No... nonono, you must've made a mistake i- it can't be I can't be..." I stuttered. Ratchet put the scanner aside quickly and turned around.

"Please... please Alpha, don't." His side of the bond opened again, but when he tried to reach out to me it was me who pushed him away. I couldn't be, mustn't be...

"I-I- no!" I screeched and started sobbing, what I'd held back and under control for the past weeks now came out all at once. Ratchet didn't waste any time before he was by my side and hugging me close. Surveillance or not- it was what any friend would have done. I just clung to him as I cried.

"C'mon, what's your freakin' problem, femme!" Swirl started, coming up close behind me now. "This is the first cybertronian sparkling since, like, millennia. We should be celebrating tha-"

"SHUT UP SWIRL!" Ratchet bellowed, the other mech retreated back to his corner, muttering.

"Geez, drama queens, both of you."

I was carrying a sparkling. I had failed, not only failed to escape but also to spare another helpless life from being dragged into this chaos. And: I was feeling disgusted. Disgusted at the thought of Optimus Prime's foul spawn growing within me and me being a part of it. Disgusted at the idea of my own child being born and raised as an Autobot. This was not my child. It was a monster I had conceived, a monster that would devour me from the inside out... and I wanted to get rid of it.

"Get it... get it out, Ratchet..." I squeezed out between my sobs. His side of the bond, which, opposed to mine, was wide open now, radiated confusion, concern and horror all of a sudden.

"What...?" He asked, his voice a mere whisper.

"I want it out, Ratchet please... you must get it out!"

"No... no, Alpha, I... no."

"GET IT OUT!"

"NO!" He took me by the shoulders, held me at arms length and shook me briefly. "I can not- I _will_ not tolerate harming a helpless sparkling. It's my... _duty_ to preserve life, not destroy it and-"

"I don't want this sparkling!"

"I know! I know." He continued whispering."And believe me I know the circumstances under which... all this came to be are not... well. Listen. I want you to not think about how this sparkling was created or by whom. The only thing that matters is that it's _your_ sparkling and that it _needs _you. Do you understand that?" I... did understand what he was saying and I did understand it made sense, but I didn't want to listen to him or even consider keeping that abomination in my spark chamber.

"But... I can't... please, I can't have this sparkling, I can't cope with it..."

"Alpha, please don't blame this innocent spark for its existence. It doesn't deserve to be hated." I looked down at my feet dangling from the edge of the examination table. What was I going to do?

XXXXXXXXXX

I was slumped on the bed in my cell, my back propped up against the wall, my legs stretched straight out in front of me. On the other side of the bars, Swirl had been substituted with Kathairo a few hours ago, but it mattered little to me as long as I was left alone to brood.

I couldn't possibly deliver Prime's sparkling. I didn't want to have a child I hated- and I would for I would never be able to forget who its father was. I was certain there were ways to rid myself of the newspark. Maybe it was like a human pregnancy, maybe if I jumped off a table or used a coat- hanger (good luck finding one of those here)... there had to be a way.

On the other hand... what would it change? If what Prime (and ultimately, the Autobots) wanted was offspring, then all an abortion could give me was a little more time. Unless of course... it would render me infertile. What would happen if I lost my ability to bear sparklings? Right now, I at least had the security of knowing that even if the Autobots were not above inflicting pain or violating me, it was not their intention to actually damage or even kill me because I was too valuable to them. That was the main reason for them never punishing me with damage- inflicting methods like whipping and the like. Pain and humiliation, yes, damage, no. However, if I ceased to be useful to them... I was not a soldier, scientist or anything else they could use. And even if I was, I wouldn't even think of working for or with them. In other words: if I were infertile, my future would be uncertain, and not in a good way. As long as I didn't have anything else to "bargain with" and didn't have an opportunity to get away from the Autobots at least. In a way, being able to have sparklings was my life insurance right now.

My brooding came to a sudden end when the door opened. I didn't even need to look to know who it was, I knew exactly what the movements of his large metal body sounded like.

"Leave us." As soon as Kathairo was gone, Prime opened the second door and closed it again behind him. I turned my head away. I didn't want to see him. "I got the medical report from Ratchet." He stated contently, I could almost hear the arrogant grin on his stupid face. "I would open an expensive batch of high grade now so we could celebrate, but carrying femmes are not meant to get intoxicated and I don't drink while on duty." The bed creaked loudly in protest when he sat down on the other side. He knew I was pregnant- so what? Was that a reason to disturb my thoughts and steal what little alone time I still had left? His mere presence annoyed me, him just sitting there, bullshitting and not getting to the point annoyed me even more. Sadly for him, I was feeling more aggressive than intimidated at the moment. And I definitely didn't feel like celebrating, either.

"Well, so now you know, mission accomplished. You might as well just fuck off, then. You can brag in front of your officers, but leave me the fuck alone."

"I didn't come here to listen to your never ending insults, thank you very much." He growled. "I came here to see you."

"What for? To annoy me? No, wait. You probably came to ask if I needed anything or how my day was or how I was feeling. Or maybe if I needed a foot massage. Why thanks, how thoughtful of you." I snapped and pulled my knees up against my chest. He exhaled sharply- his mood was quickly becoming much less jovial now.

"You may not believe me, but I do care about the well- being of my sparkling's mother." It sounded like a defense more than anything and it definitely won the price for the most ridiculous statement of the year. How dare he!

"Oh, so now you suddenly care about my well- being? Why didn't you care about it when I first came here!? You've been treating me like dirt the whole time, you _raped_ me, for fuck's sake!" I yelled at him.

"Watch your fragging tongue, femme!"

"No!" I jumped up from the bed and crossed the cell agitatedly before coming to stand in front of the bars parting the room. "Who do you think you are anyway!? All you ever did was hurt me, whenever I had only the slightest bit of hope you destroyed it! And you really expect me to be _nice_? I hate you! I absolutely _hate_ you." Silence. He didn't move from his spot on the bed, merely sitting there and scowling at me. My cooling systems were working overtime by now, my claws twitching with every ventilation as I paced, trying to balance the red hot anger welling up from within my spark. It was his fault, all his fucking fault and yet he still had the audacity to come into my cell, sit on my bed and pretend everything was alright? I knew it probably wasn't a smart thing to attack him so, but right now, I didn't give a fuck. I was in a rage- and I reveled in it. I was furious, adrenalized, I felt like I could have killed him on the spot.

"Come on! As you're usually so very _eloquent_, I assume you must have some intelligent retort! What are you waiting for? " He still didn't speak. There certainly was something he wanted to tell me urgently, right? Like how he couldn't stand how impolite I was being or how I was ignoring etiquette or maybe even how I should be grateful for all he had done for me in his unimaginable graciousness?! "COME ON, _OPTIMUS_! SAY SOMETHING!"

He stared at me, looked down at his lap and then back at me. He shook his head slowly before he finally spoke. "If you think you're the only one making sacrifices in this war you are gravely mistaken. You want freedom, but you don't want to take responsibility. You are one of our kind and yet you choose to oppose us. To oppose _me_. It is against nature, it is unethical. And once again you have proven it to be impossible to talk to you sensibly." He got up from the bed and moved over to the door slowly. I watched his every move, a dark snarl contorting my faceplates. "In case you change your mind and decide to actually act like a grown up, let me know." It was certainly not what I had expected him to say, but that didn't mean I liked it. It was nonsense and absolutely beside the point. I might as well have started an argument with the wall instead of the Autobot commander.

"Do me a favor, Optimus Prime, and go to hell. And just so you know: you can take that goddamned sparkling with you." I hissed. His glare was just as poisonous as mine now.

"I wished my sparkling had a different mother." Optimus Prime growled before he left.

**I'm not quite happy with this chapter I must confess, but well. Please review anyway :)**


	19. Not Alone

**Transformers belongs to Hasbro/ Takara.**

**The Dark Horizon**

**Chapter 19: Not Alone**

I had not the slightest desire to see the Prime during the next days and that feeling seemed to be mutual. As a "punishment" for my behavior, I was confined to my cell but that didn't bother me too much for I had more than enough to think about. Boredom was relative.

I came to a rather harsh conclusion in the end. The sparkling was too much of a problem, there was no way to ignore that. I couldn't have it because it was the Prime's, I couldn't let the Autobots raise it because it was mine and I couldn't escape while I was pregnant- I had no idea how the birth of a sparkling actually worked and even if I did I knew I couldn't do it on my own. As brutal as it sounded, the logical result was that I had to get rid of the tiny newspark in my chest... now. The solution I had come up with was as simple as (I hoped) it would be effective: in order to aid the development of the sparkling, I needed more energon, almost twice the amount I usually drank. So my theory was that if my nutrition were insufficient, the sparkling might be... well, I wasn't so sure what exactly would happen, but I imagined it to be possible for the sparkling to just be _reabsorbed_ or something like that. I knew some mammals did that if there wasn't enough food to feed the mother _and_ her developing child. And as soon as it was gone, maybe I could think of another way out of here.

Of course I couldn't let anyone know what I was doing, they would have fed me by force or have Ratchet give me energon infusions. Returning the full energon cubes to my guard was therefore not an option, I had to dispose of the fuel discreetly. Luckily, there was a ventilation shaft behind the wall my bed was shoved up against so I could sit on the bed pretending to refuel while in fact I was merely waiting for my guard to look away for a moment so I could dump the pink fluid down the shaft through the small panel beside me. It was almost too easy.

After only one day, my tank was absolutely killing me, but I kept going. That was, until the third day. In my eagerness to develop and follow a plan to abort the sparkling, I had failed to consider that the ventilation shaft I let my energon disappear into, actually had to lead somewhere and that the energon logically went somewhere and didn't just disappear into thin air. The actual problem was: the Autobot base was crawling with Autobots, who would have thought. And if you were an Autobot going about your business, you might notice energon spilling out of a ventilation shaft and you might wonder where it was coming from. To notice the energon and trace it back to its origin it barely took the Autobots three days- to say Prime was fuming with rage would be an understatement.

"There, drink. That's an order." He hissed and slammed an energon cube down on the table in front of me. After about fifteen minutes of yelling at me he had finally ordered one of his lackeys to get me some energon so he could supervise my refueling personally.

"I don't take orders from you, asshole, and I will not drink." I snorted, crossing my legs and arms while regarding the Prime dismissively. Baring his large teeth in an impatient snarl he slammed his palm down on the table.

"You're wasting my fragging time, femme! Drink or else-"

"Or _what_?!"

"Or I'll _make _you." He growled, his voice incredibly low. The threat did not sit well with me, but I didn't show it. I wouldn't appear to be weak. Instead, I picked up the cube in front of me and, after carefully weighing it in my hand, I smashed it in front of his feet so forcefully it shattered, the broken pieces of glass and the energon flying across the floor and making a huge mess. Defiance, yes. Prime stared down at the broken cube, his optic twitching, then he looked at me with a seething gaze. Slowly he reached behind his back and retrieved another cube from his subspace pocket before closing in on me.

As soon as I had realized what exactly he was planning, I tried to dash off and get out of his reach, but he managed to grab me by the shoulder and push me up against the wall. I knew the unpleasant sensation of him pinning me with his whole body all too well and of course it had an immediate effect on me, the unimaginable dread taking over in my spark and smashing my bravery brutally.

Large, strong fingers closed around my clenched jaw and tried to force my mouth open. Turning my head away was impossible, as well as keeping my mouth closed because at some point the pressure on my jaw was just too intense and too painful. The energon Prime then poured into my mouth got into my vents and I choked, but couldn't cough it back out because he immediately pressed his palm over my lower face. I kicked my legs, I bucked against him- but I couldn't free myself, being completely wedged in between the wall and the Autobot commander.

His other hand then wrapped around my neck and with his thumb he started massaging a spot right above my collar roughly until I was forced to swallow painfully. I gasped and coughed when he took his hand off my mouth, but the energon was down. His face was so close to mine I could feel the warmth of the air he was expelling steadily, his chest vibrating against me as he spoke.

"I can make you drink the whole cube that way. Or", he stepped back so I crashed to the ground, landing on all fours, "you can drink yourself." I looked up at him, scowling darkly. He was offering the cube to me and his facial expression clearly suggested he was not up for playing games. After a while, I took the cube from his hand reluctantly.

XXXXXXXXXX

The examination table was cold, as were Ratchet's hands while he performed today's routine checkup. Again, the body he was examining didn't feel like it belonged to me- and in a way, it didn't, for I obviously had no say in the decisions being made for it. I felt small, alone, helpless, betrayed. I was being used like an animal, no, like a mindless tool without thoughts or feelings, an inanimate object no one had to have some kind of respect for. And no one seemed to mind. At this point, I was even beginning to doubt even my father really minded.

"Well, the sparkling seems to be perfectly healthy despite your... short term diet." I glared at Ratchet icily.

"Good for you." He sighed and grabbed a tray holding several small containers with different minerals and energon additives in them from the next table and started mixing the multicolored powders and liquids in an empty glass cube.

"Alpha, please." I snorted and looked away. he might as well have spelled his thoughts out loud: _Alpha, please don't bring this up again, be a good girl and do as Prime says._

"I've been a fool to think you actually cared about me." I rasped. The cube almost shattered with the force Ratchet used to put it back down on the tray. His optics were staring at a blank spot on the floor as he spoke.

"I know you don't want to hear it, but in this, I'm on Prime's side. The sparkling is there and you're its mother- it's your _duty_ to protect it and make sure it gets the best possible start in life. And... our race_ is_ at the very edge of extinction. We _do_ need little ones."

"But why am _I_ to pay for your mistakes!?" I shouted desperately. Silence. B.R., who was guarding me today, shifted awkwardly, the slight rattle of his armor the only sound in the room. "I didn't start this war, I didn't ask for it! I didn't slaughter my people until virtually no one was left! My mother should have killed me as soon as she knew of me, she would have done me a great favor!" My voice faltered, I started shivering with agitation. Ratchet however looked like he had been struck by lightning.

"How can you say that..." He stared at me, I stared at him, both ends of the spark bond shut off tightly, then he shook his head and switched back into professional mode. "I'll prepare a light sedative for you so you can rest. You'll see, once you're fully refueled and recharged you'll feel a lot better." I stared at his back with contempt when he turned back around to get the medication. I couldn't believe it- it seemed I truly was alone. At that point, my processor just seemed to short out, everything was too much. Keeping the sparkling was not an option and if I kicked the bucket trying to kill it, well. It didn't matter. I looked to my left where I could see a few tools lying on a work bench, including a long screwdriver. I looked at Ratchet again, who had by now returned with a syringe to sedate me, but that was not happening.

He might have been on edge and a little bit wary, but he certainly hadn't expected my next move. Swiftly, I kicked his lower chest with both legs, which, due to our weight difference, served to catapult me backwards over the edge of the examination table and onto the floor where I rolled over onto my feet immediately and bolted for the door to the supply room after snatching the screwdriver I had seen before. Of course, my guard and Ratchet were after me at once, probably fearing I had gone completely insane and was planning to kill myself, but as the way was obscured by workbenches and other machines standing in the way, they were much slower than I was so there was enough time to slam the door shut behind me and bring the first high and fully stocked supply shelf to fall to barricade the way- it was heavy enough to stop them for the moment.

I heard them slamming against the door from the outside, trying to open it again. I knew they would succeed eventually, but I didn't need much time. Eying the hypnotizingly sharp tip of the tool I was holding in my hand, I took a few steps back and opened the large and thick chest panel behind which my spark was hidden. It slid away easily, smoothly, revealing the most vulnerable part of my body. Blue light filled the darkened room.

The direct approach: quick, painful, dangerous. I looked down at my own chest- I had seen my own spark before, just a few times during examinations, but now there was a second, if tiny, glowing, swirling sphere beating in the small gestation chamber below my own life source. I could barely see it from this angle, but it was definitely there.

The sparkling. The parasite. The monster. Faintly, I registered Ratchet and B.R. managing to shove the door open a bit and Ratchet squeezing through, but he got stuck on his way into the room- he could see me now, but he couldn't reach me.

"ALPHA!" He shouted fearfully. "ALPHA- DON'T!" I paid him no heed, ignored him reaching out to me with his spark desperately. The screwdriver's handle grasped tightly, I raised my fist. I was scared, but the fear of the sparkling was greater than the fear of unspeakable pain or even death. It was a price I was willing to pay. "NO!" Ratchet again. They had almost forced the door open, it would merely take seconds until they would be able to get in. I had to be quick.

And then, just as I wanted to stab my gestation chamber, something happened: a pulse. My hand stopped mid- air, I let go of the screwdriver, staggered backwards. There was something that had not been there before and it was impossible to ignore. It was the sparkling, _my_ sparkling, reaching out to me for the very first time, but that alone was not what made me stop, it was the emotion it met me with: pure and absolute love, the only emotion my child knew as of yet. The shock and confusion I reacted with was mirrored with surprising accuracy, but the love remained.

Just a short moment later, the shelf blocking the door finally gave way and the two Autobots stormed in. Ratchet kicked the screwdriver away and out of my reach, then fell to his knees in front of me and grabbed me by my shoulders. "Alpha. You- don't you ever-...!" He stuttered while his spark practically flooded me with all its anxiety.

I saw him in front of me, felt him holding me and closing my chestplates again, but I didn't react to him, all my attention being focused on the tender connection to my little newspark. It was then that I realized for good that indeed, I wasn't alone in my body, but that I would also never be able to harm my own sparkling; not now that I knew what it felt like.

In my daze I faintly heard someone running through the front rooms of the med bay and the floor shaking with the heavy steps. Ratchet jumped up and turned around, taking a protective stance in front of me- he knew who was coming. Prime stepped over the shelf on the floor and strode over to Ratchet and me aggressively.

"Please, Prime...!" Ratchet tried to stop him but was no match for Optimus Prime, being grabbed by the shoulder and simply flung aside. He didn't give up that easily though and latched onto his commander's leg for which he was backhanded brutally. I watched the scene impassively and didn't move, or react in any way for that matter, even when Prime came for me. I was grabbed by the throat and lifted up to his optic level with nauseating speed, his other hand raising swiftly to strike me. But the expected pain of the impact of his hand with my face didn't come.

Instead, he froze and stared at me. Our optics met with equal confusion and when I grasped the arm he was holding me up with, he put me back down slowly. No one said a word, it was an eerie silence. Optimus Prime lowered himself to kneel before me while I just stood there, motionless, even when he placed his large hand on my chest carefully. The hate I felt for him was pushed to the very back of my mind by the sparkling and if that alone puzzled me, what I felt next did so even more. There was another spark linked to mine, albeit it was merely a shadow of an almost inconceivable presence, but it was definitely there. I was shocked to say the least.

It wasn't Ratchet I was feeling and it wasn't my child, but its father- through the sparkling itself. Everything felt so unreal at that point of time.

**A rather short chapter this time, but the next one should be longer. Please review anyway ;)**


	20. Skeletons In The Closet

**Transformers belongs to Hasbro/ Takara.**

**The Dark Horizon**

**Chapter 20: Skeletons In The Closet**

The pregnancy, I noticed very soon, was having rather dramatic effects on my behavior and general state of mind. It might have been some sort of protective mechanism to ensure the sparkling was save, but anyway I felt rather... tame. I just didn't feel like fighting, not even with Prime, who seemed to like me much better that way and tried to spend time with me more frequently, to my dismay. He seemed to have gotten the idea he should watch over me personally so I wouldn't attempt anything crazy again. I mostly tried to ignore him, barely raised my voice whenever I replied at all. Maybe I also tried to avoid any kind of argument because my audios were much more sensitive than I was used to and loud sounds tended to give me headaches nowadays.

Mostly, I spent my days recharging and refueling since I had neither the energy nor the inclination to do anything else. Besides, as long as the time he spent with me was limited to him sitting at his desk doing paperwork (I had never thought it possible for the Prime's job to consist mostly of reading reports, writing letters and filling out forms, but it seemed he indeed took part in missions himself barely unless it was absolutely necessary) and with me curled up somewhere in the corner recharging, well.

In fact, it was really, really weird, living like this. Every aspect of my life was just crazy: another being _living and growing_ within me, a being I could communicate with in a way. Me coexisting with my _rapist_ in relative peace. But most of all: realizing that I didn't even mind too much. I told myself the sparkling was to blame and it was messing with my brain, but the nagging feeling remained that maybe my spirit had somehow been broken, that I had lost my pugnacity... or my mind, I couldn't tell.

Towards the eighth week of the pregnancy, I became a bit more irritable again, but not in an aggressive way. I cried a lot, but at the same time, I longed for... something. Someone to talk to maybe, someone to rely on. Prime was the last one I wanted to fulfill that role and Ratchet seemed to be a bit huffy ever since the incident with the screwdriver. Therefore, I relied purely on my son (it had turned out my sparkling was a little mech) for emotional support, but I felt like it wasn't entirely right to do so. He was too innocent, too vulnerable to be burdened with my misery. And he was the only one I had now.

In time, Prime even had me recharge in his own quarters again, which I wasn't all too happy about, but surprisingly, he mostly kept his distance. Mostly. Maybe the sparkling was affecting him just like it did me and he wasn't too fond of starting a fight either. At least there was an upside to it: I didn't have to wear my shackles during the night and Prime had a private shower which I was allowed to use. For a while I even was obsessed with showering, whenever I wasn't getting my energon or sleep, I could be found scrubbing away at my protoform. Not that there was any dirt around I had to wash off, but I felt like it; that and I enjoyed Prime's annoyance whenever he had to attend to an important meeting with government officials and I had used up all his wax again.

One evening however, he had just been on one of his rare missions, he apparently changed his mind. I was in the shower, as always, lathering my metallic skin for the fifth time when I heard the door opening and someone entering the room over the sound of the running water. I turned around quickly, only to find myself in the shadow of a large red and blue frame. The tiled wall behind me pressed into my back when I took a step away from him, but as he was blocking the entrance to the single shower stall, I couldn't get away. He looked down at me, his expression unreadable, then he stepped beneath the hot water jets coming from the ceiling.

"Wh- what do you want?" I asked shakily. He hadn't actually touched me in the past weeks (putting my shackles on and off didn't really count), but only because there hadn't really been any abuse didn't mean he had turned into a nice guy all of a sudden. He gave a dry laugh, dirt was starting to come off his armor and run down his body along with the water.

"It is ridiculous actually. You are just a little femme." He leaned down to me, staring into my optics. "Just. A little. Femme." He repeated. His head tipped to the side a bit, his icy optics narrowed. The situation was definitely getting too creepy for my taste.

"You can have the shower. I'm finished." I said quickly and tried to squeeze past, but he stopped me nonchalantly before continuing to speak without even looking at me.

"_You_ are not going anywhere. I have something to discuss with you." I scowled. I didn't want to talk to him, I didn't even want to be in the same room as him- fuck, not even on the same planet. I said nothing though, maybe he would just present one of his monologues and be done with it, I would shrug it off, get myself a cube of energon and get a few hours of recharge. "I admit you have become a bit more manageable with the sparkling, that was to be expected. But I'm not stupid, Alpha. I know what has been going on in your head and let me tell you: I am not going to play along."

"I... what? I don't even know what you're talking about. Now let me go... _please_." I didn't want to get in a fight, just wanted to feed and rest, in peace. My tired processor didn't even let me worry or think about what he was up to too much.

"Don't you play innocent. I've witnessed your ability to... mess with a mech's processor, but you having the audacity to try your tricks on _me_ to make me waive my right to you is just... outrageous. Sneaky, I might say though, very sneaky indeed." With my hands on his lower arm, I tried to push his limb out of the way, but it didn't budge. This was confusing and I didn't like where it was going. If he would just let me go...

"I don't understand... come on, let go already." I pleaded desperately.

"Oh but you will understand. I don't care how long it takes, but you will, believe me."

"Don't!" I cried with immediate fear when his hand moved down from my chest to my hips and crotch. Again, he stopped my attempt to get away easily, then he lifted me up against his chest. My fists smashed into his shoulder to get him to let go, but my hands were quickly caught in one of his so all I could do was squirm and whine while he held me to himself and started licking my neck. I hoped he would choke on the water getting into his mouth that way.

"Let me go, you brute!" His angered growl was the only warning I got before he pinned me against the wall, not using enough force to damage me but enough to hurt. He pulled my legs apart to get me to wrap them around his waist as far as they would go. I was very scared by now: he actually intended to do just what had appeared in my mind as just a flash of panic moments earlier.

"You would do well to remember your place here, female. And you should fragging _remember_ it is my right to do with you as I please." I started crying when his palm was pressed against my port covering and started forcing it open.

"Stop... please, you got what you wanted, I'm pregnant already- stop it please- aargh!" My legs twitched, his fingers found their way into my intimate parts. Past scenes of him raping me rushed past my memory, horror engulfed me. I tried to fight him, I knew it was hopeless, but I still did. It wasn't like I hadn't been in this situation before, the outcome was clear.

"Do you actually believe that _this_", I screamed when his fingers were slammed up into my tense port brutally to make his point clear, "is about being _pregnant_? Do you?"

"Please...", I sobbed, "please stop- I- aah! Stop, you're hurting me!" He merely snorted, continuing his merciless assault.

"Hah, I've fucked you a hundred times over. You can handle it."

"You... you fucking bastard..." I wheezed. The pain, if I could only make the pain go away, if I could only ignore it... Over my crying and the sounds of our metal frames screeching as they were ground together, I heard the distinct clicking I knew the armor protecting his own interface equipment created when it slid back. Wriggling in his firm grasp was useless, but I wouldn't accept there was no way around what was to come now, didn't _want_ to accept it.

He didn't care. Of course he didn't. The pain was nothing I wasn't used to, but it still felt more intense than I remembered, maybe because I had been spared for several weeks now. He entered me with one firm thrust, his cable more than agonizing inside of me, his hands denting my sensitive plating where he was holding me in place. I screamed at the top of my vocal processor. No matter what he believed, it had never gotten less painful and I supposed it never would. I hated interfacing, just as much as I hated Optimus Prime. Brutal, disgusting, primitive.

While he was taking his time trying to establish the connection, I prayed- it didn't matter who I prayed to. Any of the human gods, Primus, Unicron, the universe... my mother; but no one seemed to be inclined to answer my prayers.

It was taking too long, he was doing this on purpose just because he knew I hated it, because he _liked_ to hurt me. It must have been that. How I would have loved to rip his beating spark out of its casing and crush it in front of his very eyes... My whole body jerked when he finally found the perfect position and his cable split inside my port to slam into my internal connectors and start transferring his coding. As an automatic reaction to ensure the connection would not be disrupted, my motor functions went offline temporarily- now him pressing me against the wall tightly was not the only reason I couldn't move and I hated my body for that.

His coding, genetic information in the shape of a seemingly never ending stream of digital sequences, flooded my system like a red hot tidal wave- a virus, a plague. This time however, my body merely circulated it in a way without actually decoding it and in the end it just disappeared like a scream that echoed for a while and then faded. Prime lowered his head, his body was shivering with tension, every single hydraulic muscle cable tight and rippling with enormous yet contained force.

"It doesn't matter what you try... you- ngh...! This is a fight you cannot win... I am Prime. I will always... prevail." He groaned deeply as he overloaded before finally (finally!) his cable's extensions folded back into themselves and the whole thing slid out of me.

I gasped in relief, even though the pain was still there, however, it would be nothing more than a dull ache in just about an hour. Satisfied, Prime took a step back to release me- if I hadn't caught on to his armor quickly to lower myself to the shower floor, I would have fallen. Still, my legs couldn't hold my weight and I sunk into a pile on the floor, quickly scooting out of the way and into the corner so I wouldn't be stepped on by a couple of rather huge feet. "Listen to your spark, Alpha. Deep down you know it is futile. You know you can't run. And you know you can't hide. You are mine. You will be for the rest of eternity."

XXXXXXXXXX

I woke up in a bed. Not just any bed, I noticed, but the Prime's. I sat up quickly and was just a nanosecond away from jumping off, but I noticed I was alone. When had I even fallen asleep? Had Prime carried me over here? Why? Had he raped me again while I was out cold? I couldn't tell by the way my body felt.

Recalling the last evening's events, a strong wave of sudden nausea gripped me and I emptied what little energon was left in my tank onto the carpet next to the bed. My first thought when I wiped some of the half- digested fuel off my lips with the back of my hand was to go and take a shower, but now the shower didn't seem as much of a friendly place as it had before. A quick wash would be necessary though if I didn't want to spend the rest of the night and the following day all smelly and sticky, so I got up, mindfully avoiding the small puddle on the floor.

It hurt to walk, but I ground my teeth together and limped out of the room slowly. In the living room, I saw why I had woken up alone: he was recharging on the sofa, rather noisily at that, lying on his belly, his arm hanging off the edge. A cattle prod would have come in handy right now, or better yet: a large axe... the back of his neck was just so deliciously exposed. But truth be told, I didn't have an adequate weapon at hand, so it remained a pleasant play of thought.

Something about the scene seemed odd though. Something on the table caught my eye then, a little flicker of light in the blue dark. I took a step closer to get a better look, but still I couldn't tell what it was. It was small, about the size of my index finger maybe, and it seemed to glow ever so slightly. Up close it resembled a feather in a way, but it was translucent like glass.

I picked it up carefully and lifted it up in front of my optics to study the curious object more closely. It was truly fascinating. It really looked and felt like glass, but it was light as, well, a feather. And it was incredibly filigrane, the almost microscopic branches too small even for human hands to make. I wondered what exactly it could be and who could possibly have manufactured this piece of art. It must have belonged to Optimus, but why would he have something like this?

"Put that back down." I started at the sound of his voice, not even having noticed him stirring from his sleep. "_Now_." He sat up, looking rather moody and... anxious? Was that what was dancing around his optics? Was this thing... important to him? Anyway it looked like a weak spot which I might have ignored at the moment had it not been for the incident in the shower. Now I very much felt like exploiting it.

"Why should I." I stated gruffly, putting the feather down on the palm of my other hand and closing my fingers around it. He moved to stand up, but was stopped abruptly when I raised the fist containing the feather above my head threateningly. "And don't even think about coming near me or you'll find out just how many pieces there will be when this thing hits the floor."

His gaze darkened, then his optics blazed like blue fire and he glared at me for a few seconds, then he went back to normal before his expression changed to that of utter confusion. "How dare you defy me... I am your _Prime_."

"In that case you can _royally_ fuck yourself, asshole."

"... What is the point in this? What could you possibly hope to accomplish? What do you want?"

I laughed joylessly. "What I want? You're asking me what_ I_ want? I want to see you suffer, Prime. I want to see you brought to justice, to see you pay for what you have done to me."

"It's my fragging _right_ to-"

"I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU THINK YOUR FUCKING RIGHTS ARE! It's not your right to treat me like I'm your fucking slave and it's NOT YOUR FUCKING RIGHT to think everyone around you is supposed to be _grateful_ for being allowed to take this shit from you! And what about the sparkling?! Surely you already have plans how to best ruin my son's life as well?!"

"_MY_ son is going to be taken care of! He is going to get the best possible education and training-"

"Training!? My son is not going to be a war machine or... or... cannon fodder! I won't let you use him for your own selfish goals, you hear me?!" I shouted at him hysterically. The protectiveness I was feeling towards my unborn sparkling now was surprising even to myself, but it was strong enough to make me forget my fear and drive me to pure and undiluted aggression. Silence stretched the seconds after my outburst and staring the enormous mech sitting in front of me down, I dared him to move. I would have attacked him without a second thought, that was how agitated I was. The energon was rushing through my veins with deafening noise, my muscle cables so tight they might have exploded any second. And oh, did that feel good.

My baby would not become a soldier, was not meant to be a part of this war and pay for his father's sins. I wouldn't let him destroy my son!

However, as much as I was in the mood for a fight at the moment, Prime wasn't, his optics darting back and forth between my enraged glare and my fist as if I was aiming a gun at him and he was trying to calculate whether or not I would actually pull the trigger. In the end, he merely braced his elbows on his thighs and sighed exhaustedly.

"You know what? You can shout at me all you like. Insult me, preach your weird little ideals, threaten or attack me if you will. But this _object_ you are holding there has nothing to do with our... our _conflict_, nor does the bot it was passed on by. So would you... _please_ put it back down?"

I was taken aback to be completely honest. The image of a balloon being released and deflating, racing through the room randomly with a distinct farting sound probably described my development of moods best and I would have laughed at the silliness of that thought had I not been so confused. Finding myself puzzled to the point of immobilization, I merely stood and watched while he stood up, stepped close to me and pried my hand open slowly to retrieve the translucent feather. For a moment he looked into my optics, then he frowned and walked off briskly without saying another word, leaving me standing there and trying to make sense of what had just happened.

XXXXXXXXXX

It was not until three days later that I addressed the matter again, albeit not with Optimus, but with Ratchet.

"Say," I began while he was working out a few adjustments to the mineral cocktail I had to take every day, "do you have any idea what Prime would do with a... a glass feather?" The brightly colored medic looked up from his assortment of additives to meet my gaze with a frown.

"...Glass feather?", he asked, raising his eyebrows. I shifted on the medical berth so I could look at him more comfortably.

"Well, at least it looked like a feather. It was translucent like glass, about this big..." I indicated the approximate size of it with my hands.

"Sounds like a lilleth feather to me." Bumblebee remarked. He was sitting in the corner with his feet propped up on a low cabinet next to him, covering a few spots on his leg armor where the paint had been scratched off with a fresh coat of yellow. How a scout could choose to paint himself yellow was beyond me, but he seemed to be managing just fine despite it. Upon closer inspection his paint job looked quite patchy though; constant makeshift touch ups only got you so far.

"Oh yes, of course it- hey! Get your dirty pedes off of that!" Ratchet scolded, noticing the threat Bee's feet posed to his equipment's insanely perfect cleanliness. With a grumble, the scout put his feet back down and got up.

"But lilleths have been extinct for millennia. If he truly does have a feather, it must be really old."

"What _is_ a lilleth anyway?" I asked, sitting up somewhat laboriously. The sparkling was draining more and more of my energy as it developed and that tended to turn even the simplest movements into an enormous effort.

"A form of cybertronian wildlife." Ratchet explained, leaning back against the table behind him. "A bird, if you will, a living, moving crystal. They were rare even when I was young." He paused, looking thoughtful. "And as to why Optimus would have a lilleth feather, well, that would have to do with etiquette at the iaconian court."

"Really? I've never heard of anything the like." Bumblebee said as he came to stand beside me with his arms crossed over his chest. Normally I would have objected to any mech other than Ratchet standing so close to me, but as my relationship with the second youngest bot on base was somewhat amiable, I tolerated it.

"When the war broke out most customs started to be neglected somewhat until merely rudimentary forms of the original codes of conduct remained. As I served as the royal family's head medic long before any of you were born, I am rather familiar with the customs of the upper class though."

"So what's the story with the feather?" Certainly it must have been something with a deeper meaning for him to keep the thing for such a long time. Ratchet pulled a stool over from the side and sat down, sighing.

"You see, Optimus wasn't always the mech he is today. He was always ambitious and a little short- tempered, yes, but he used to be a lot more attentive when it came to the needs of his people, compassionate even. Bots followed him not out of fear or to fulfill sworn oaths or because of their programming, but out of devotion and true loyalty. He... he used to be a leader one could look up to, a leader one would be proud to serve." His optics carried a distant look and I felt clear disappointment through our half opened bond. His esteem for the Prime, it seemed, had seen better days.

"And the reason why he used to be all that was, how could it be any different, a femme. Elita, second in command of the Autobots and intended empress of Cybertron. She was the one who balanced him, supported him and kept him in line. I have never witnessed anyone being able to stand up to him the way she could."

"I have only ever heard stories about her." Bee spoke, a frown on his silver face. "I heard she was a great warrior."

"The best." Ratchet admitted. "Even Megatron feared her. An amazing stategist and commander as well. Some even believe she was a descendant of a forgotten line of Primes, but I cannot confirm that. It is possible, although unlikely. In any case her origins have always been a bit mysterious."

"How so?"

"Well, practically nothing is known of her life before she turned up one day, joined the army and started working her way up the command chain, that was way back during the reign of Sentinel Prime." Well, all that was really interesting, but it didn't actually answer my question.

"But why the feather?"

"Among royalty, it was common to present each other with a rare or valuable token as a sign of engagement when proposing to each other; lilleth feathers, eggs or other crystals used to be quite popular. Optimus and Elita were planning to get sparkbonded."

I huffed. "I cannot imagine how someone could possibly want to be in a relationship with... with _him_."

"As I said, he used to be different. And Elita was a very strong femme. Trust me when I say they loved each other. They even had a son but sadly, he was assassinated by the Decepticons at a very young age." It was weird, thinking of Prime as a possibly loving partner and father- the image was just too ridiculously absurd.

"The problem was however," my father continued, "that Elita lived for combat, it was like... the essence of her being in a way. Nothing could stop her from being at the front lines and charging into battle next to her most vicious fighters. Elita, unarmed and not fighting, that was unimaginable to anyone who knew her. And suddenly she was supposed to give that up because Optimus feared for her safety, not without reason I might add- she had become even more daring and aggressive, reckless even after the death of their son. They fought about her battling amongst the other warriors a lot.

I was there, at the last strategy meeting before the final battle for the Hydrax Plateau. They were going at it again and it was really bad; we thought they might even have attacked each other physically if the whole command staff hadn't been there. Anyway, Elita joined the fight regardless of what Prime had to say in the matter, but she did not return. At least not all of her. And Optimus hasn't been the same ever since her death."

"Do you think things would be much different if she were here?" Bumblebee asked quietly. I couldn't help but wonder the same. My life might be much easier, I imagined.

"Most certainly. I'm not saying she would have ended the war and saved Cybertron, but I'm sure some things would definitely have taken another course."

"That's all so... tragic." I murmured. Ratchet sighed and got back up to resume his work.

"War is always tragic."

XXXXXXXXXX

The further my pregnancy progressed the more my nervousness increased. Ratchet could reassure me all he liked, even the knowledge of him having helped many newsparks into the world didn't help to quench my fears. Prime was no help either as one could imagine, it wasn't like he actually cared how I felt about the whole thing anyway. I thought about him and his deceased "fiancé", Elita, from time to time, but I didn't ask him about her. It was a sad story, yes, but I wasn't his damned psychiatrist. Besides, I highly doubted he would actually consider talking to me about it anyway; after all, just as I didn't like him, he didn't really like me, and he certainly didn't trust me enough to address his personal problems with me. That was probably a wise decision for I wouldn't hesitate to use any knowledge of a possible weakness against him and he knew that very well.

It wasn't his side of the story I was interested in to begin with, it was Elita. What had she really been like? What if she really had been a Prime, wouldn't that have entitled her to the supreme rule over Cybertron as well? Even imagining what she might have looked like was difficult for me- ranking amongst the most powerful Cybertronians was probably not easily accomplished and I really had to wonder how much lacking height and mass she'd had to compensate with skill and sheer willpower to achieve that. Not that it was actually important in my current situation. She was dead and dead bots couldn't help me.

It was on a Thursday afternoon a few minutes past four pm that labor set in. I didn't quite understand what it was at first, a mere throbbing in my spark growing stronger until it turned into painful convulsions. Keeping quiet finally became impossible and I groaned, curling up into a tight ball and pressing my hands against my chest.

Prime, who had been paying me no heed while he was working at his desk, seemed to know exactly what was happening after he had looked at me once. He got up immediately and tried to pick me up, but I batted his hands away. I was more focused on the antics of my own body though and therefore didn't put up much of a fight when he tried a second time and gathered me up in his arms.

Fifteen minutes later, I was arching my back off a medical berth and screaming my vocal processor out. It felt as if my chest was being ripped apart from the inside, like I was on fire. I was scared out of my mind, as was the sparkling... my surroundings I barely registered. Ratchet and Prime were there, that much I knew. Someone was trying to hold me down on the berth, I heard Ratchet talking to me or someone else but I didn't understand what he was saying. I desperately tried to suck as much air into my vents as possible, staring at the white light on the ceiling. Then my chestplates opened, the actual birth was starting. My son panicked when his spark's physical connections to my body disconnected one by one and he was slowly pushed out of my gestation chamber, he was forced to leave his world and everything he had ever known behind. Someone was holding my hand.

There was a distinct pulling sensation accompanying the last wave of pain and then my sparkling was gone from my body. I could still feel him through the bond of course, but it was different from having him connected to my spark directly. I was feeling dazed, couldn't form a coherent thought, my awareness floating. It felt like my head was wrapped in cotton and suspended in the air... the pain was gone now and I felt my son calming down. Soon exhaustion made my optic covers heavy and a deep peace spread in my spark like a cloud of warmth. My son was born.

XXXXXXXXXX

The floor felt cold against my feet when I got off the medical berth I had been recharging on. As always, there was a guard stationed by my side to ensure I wouldn't try to run, but that wasn't my priority right now. I looked up at Ratchet's faceplate; he was smiling at me, but his smile didn't reach his optics.

"I... want to see him." My throat was aching, vocalizer sore from the overuse it had suffered a few hours ago, my voice therefore sounded quite hoarse.

"Prime is in there at the moment. Are you sure?" I didn't reply, merely giving his shoulder a weak shove to which he immediately yielded, and walked around my berth and towards the door at the end of the room on wobbly legs. Who or what it was standing between my sparkling and myself I didn't care- nothing in the universe could keep me from seeing my child. My spark, which had been so used to being so closely connected to it during the past three months, now ached and longed for my creation, just as I could feel my son longing for me, calling out to me through the bond.

I opened the door without hesitation as soon as I reached it and ignored Prime, who barely acknowledged me himself, before striding to the gestation pod at the very back of the room. It was the only one illuminated by a faint bluish glow, now filled with a compound of raw metals, minerals, energon and various other fluids, but most importantly, it held my son's tiny spark chamber. I cannot say how long I just stood there and stared- I could have stayed there forever, could have remained here to wait until the years passed and the tiny orb suspended by a few cables and struts in the center of the pod, had used up all the resources being fed to it to build a body of its own and hatched.

I was very aware of my pointy fingertips when I placed my hand on the window- like, smooth surface at its front. It was so warm. My sparkling knew I was there, naturally, and it was happy. After a while, Prime moved closer from behind and put his hand on my shoulder slowly. I didn't mind much right now, too preoccupied with my baby, but I did notice I couldn't feel his presence in my spark anymore, not at all, which I was very glad about.

My mind felt hazy still, like my processor was half asleep. Currently, thinking was a difficult task, but there was one thought that just wouldn't stop its nagging, one which hadn't even occurred to me before, for whatever reason. I had given him a son. But he wanted an heir. Not only a son, an _heir_, which would have to be a Prime. The birth of this sparkling had changed nothing- I was stuck with the mech until I gave him what he wanted... if I couldn't find a way to escape, that was. My optics widened and I looked up from my son in the gestation pod in front of me to glare at Prime through the reflection in the glassy surface. His expression was thoughtful while he watched the pod with equal interest.

"You are not satisfied yet, are you." I said quietly, but with a certain edge to my voice. His expression changed- he obviously had noticed and didn't appreciate it.

"Not quite." Prime replied. Scowling, I jerked my shoulder away from beneath his hand and left the room without another word.

**Please review 3**


	21. Royal Lineage

**Transformers belongs to Hasbro/ Takara.**

**The Dark Horizon**

**Chapter 21: Royal Lineage**

The two weeks I was granted for much needed recovery after the birth passed way too quickly and before I could even think of a new plan I was back in Optimus Prime's clutches. However, as I was pretty much back to normal, the only times I saw him were when he tried to knock me up again. And I made sure he definitely did _not_ enjoy the time he spent with me.

I made two escape attempts, but they were cut short by either my guards or other Autobots I encountered in the hallways. Looking back that was to be expected because I hadn't actually had a plan to get out of base, hoping something would come up as I went. Well, apparently not. Ratchet kept promising he would think of something, but that had yet to happen- for now, he seemed to be just as much out of ideas as I was.

This time, it took longer for me to conceive, seven and a half months to be exact. Again my plans (hypothetical plans, but nevertheless) had been crossed and again, it was a little mech, but not a Prime. On the one hand I was glad about that fact, on the other I wasn't- another Prime was probably the last thing I needed, even if he was my own son, but I knew Optimus wouldn't give up until he had his heir. And what if I really created a Prime, what then? I doubted I would be allowed to "retire", the outcome of me being simply passed on to someone else was likely and who knew who that would be. The image of a lamb being thrown into a cage of starved wolves came to mind. I was looking forward to the day I would be rid of Optimus Prime, yet I dreaded it.

My new sparkling was different from my first one, I noticed that very quickly. It was more sensitive in a way, my changing moods were affecting it more intensely and it would recoil in the more stressful situations I found myself in. It was like he was... very shy, fearful even at times and that apparently irritated his father a bit and I had the feeling he didn't want to have too much to do with this sparkling because of that. I supposed that could only be beneficial for my son anyway.

When the throbbing started this time, I knew my sparkling was ready to emerge- at least my body deemed it ready, because had one asked my son, he would have been content just staying right where he was. Since panic wasn't messing with my ability to think clearly, I was more aware of what was happening than last time; mostly I was very aware of Prime being there, a circumstance over which I expressed my discomfort openly. In the end he left because Ratchet feared I would become hysteric and there might be complications, so he told him to wait outside. Believe it or not: he listened for a change.

I was in pain, I wheezed, whimpered and screamed, still it was different from the last time. I noted how Ratchet connected me up to monitors and scanners, heard how he was talking to me reassuringly and I saw how he was quickly preparing the tools he would need to help the sparkling along. A small metal orb was already sitting on the table next to the berth I was lying on- the little sparkchamber Ratchet had built for my son. When the time came and my chest opened he placed a circular gadget over my spark that had swirling electromagnetic plates at its bottom. The resulting field pulled at the small spark next to mine and removed it from my body as it lost its grip on my spark.

My son's life essence hung in the magnetic field below the gadget, the look of utter concentration was plastered on Ratchet's face while he transferred the fearful newspark to its casing with steady hands. I watched as he closed up the tiny spark chamber and put it into the yet empty gestation pod that had been carried into the operating room of the med bay for this occasion, what exactly he did there I couldn't see from my position, but when he was finished he returned to me to take care of me. In fact, it had all gone rather smoothly and in the end, the hazy feeling took over again. Maybe that was normal, some sort of instinctual reaction meant to reward a bot for reproducing... I felt happy somehow. My father was there. My sons were there. And for a moment, everything was just fine.

XXXXXXXXXX

I'd thought that my third pregnancy would be just like the first two. Boy, was I wrong. My third child was unlike the others- it was a Prime. And it _did_ make a huge difference.

At first I didn't notice. In the beginning everything felt normal, after a while I started feeling my son within me and exchanging emotions. However, when his father (who was making a big thing of me finally having conceived an heir- there had even been a party but I had strictly refused to take part in any form) came into play, with him came the problems, at least for me. I couldn't feel Optimus Prime in my spark more intensely than during the other times I had carried his children, but his son of course had a connection to him that was almost as close as it was to me. That was why, I realized soon with growing uneasiness, my child wanted to be close to _both_ its creators. The problem was: I _didn't_ want to be close to Optimus.

Logically the Autobot commander felt the tug emanating from my sparkling as well and was more than willing to oblige- after all, this was the child he had been waiting for and he wouldn't pass the chance to spend time with his unborn son. The first time I saw what sort of control this sparkling had over me was when I was just about to start a fight over something with its father; it was some ridiculous little thing really, but mixed with my hatred for him it created enough aggression for a full blown argument- that was when my son interfered. I was shocked. The other sparklings had simply been unhappy in this kind of situation, but the little Prime managed to somehow... stop me.

I didn't know how to explain it- it shouldn't have been possible, right? But this newspark was actually attempting to control my emotions, to calm me down whenever I was getting upset just so I wouldn't fight with his father. It made me furious and that was quite weird. But even that anger was suffocated by my son.

How dare he? It wasn't his place to tell me what to feel- fuck, he didn't even have an own _processor_ yet. He loved me, of course he did, but he also loved his father and he wanted us to get along so desperately. Now I wasn't even allowed a tiny bit of alone time because Prime "senior" kept me by his side as much as possible and me being in such close proximity to him all the time didn't exactly make things better. It was frustrating really. Was I even a independent being anymore or was I just a puppet my son commanded? It would have been wrong to hate him for what he was doing though- he didn't know better. What he was doing was based on instinct alone, not on common sense or thought.

One morning I even found myself waking up from sound recharge in the arms of the mech I wanted to wish all evils the universe had to offer upon, feeling content. _Content!_ My son shrunk back a bit from the wave of pure anger I was feeling when I found out it was his doing, but did he draw any conclusions from that? No, of course he didn't. He was a Prime and Primes were stubborn (and probably quite dense) by nature. He did it again. And again, and again, and again. And whenever I thought it couldn't get any more confusing, I was proven wrong.

I had just spent the day in Prime's office and we were returning to his quarters for the night. He still had me on the chain, but at this point that wouldn't even have been necessary. We didn't speak on the way back, but Prime kept looking at me in a weird way... there had been something about his behavior all day actually, though I couldn't tell what it was. I tried to ignore him and when we arrived at his private rooms and he took my shackles off, I just walked off to get myself some energon.

"Why do you keep doing this?" I winced at the sound of his voice. He sounded oddly calm, almost gentle as he walked towards me slowly. He didn't look or sound like he was planning to actually abuse me or anything so I stayed relatively settled; I did scoot over and away from him on the sofa though, just to be safe.

"I don't know what you mean." He sat down next to me, I tried to jump up, irritated- but was stopped by my sparkling. With a growl, I suppressed its attempt at controlling me though and got up anyway.

"_That_ is exactly what I mean." He stayed seated, watching me with a frown on his face. "You shouldn't assume I cannot feel your... disagreement with our son. It is very stressful for him. Stop it."

I snorted. "You're telling _me_ to- no, no, no. You", I said firmly, pointing my finger at his chest, "you _know_ I don't like you. In fact, you know I _hate_ you. And this damned sparkling of yours... you've been treating me like a piece of shit ever since you abducted me-"

"I've never abducted you. You came with me out of your own free will."

"Don't start with me, Prime! I have reasons to hate you. And how I feel about you is my business, mine alone, and the sparkling... and I... oh god, why am I even talking to you about this?" With one quick move, I turned around, flopped down on the carpet and buried my face in my arms.

I didn't expect his next move, my confusion therefore didn't clear my processor when he sat down right next to me.

"The little one just wants its parents to get along. Is that so bad?" He said softly. I stared at him, flabbergasted. It hadn't really occurred to me that the sparkling was affecting him as well, making him awfully cuddly for his standards. He was so... _nice_. No! Optimus Prime was not nice and he was definitely not my friend! But he was the father of my sparklings... aargh! While my own emotions and my sparkling's battled, I feared my processor would fry.

"This is just all so... so confusing!" I cried out in the end and actually slumped against his shoulder. He even put an arm around me.

"It... is." he murmured, then he got up carefully and disappeared in his bedroom. When he returned, he was carrying a small box- at least it looked small as he held it, compared to me it wasn't at all. "I wasn't sure whether or not to give this to you but... I thought the mother of my heir might need some protection." He lowered himself to the ground once again and put the box down before me. I eyed it suspiciously, as if a monster might jump at me should I open the lid. He ended up opening it for me, but at first I didn't quite understand what the metal parts which had been placed in the box with obvious care were supposed to be. They were painted in a decent pink with cream white accents, the curved surfaces were polished to a silky shine. Then it clicked in my currently so distraught brain: it was armor. For _me_.

"Do you like it?" Prime asked. I didn't know what to say. Was this some kind of joke? Why was he giving me armor? Whether or not I liked it was relatively irrelevant though, more importantly: would I accept it?

"What do you want in return?" I inquired- receiving something from him without it being some kind of bribe seemed impossible; I couldn't deny I had wanted armor for a long time now, but what would be the cost?

"It is a gift. Would you like to try it on?"

"I..." I was at loss for words. Or for thoughts. Or feelings for that matter. None of this made any sense at all, it was like I had just stumbled into a parallel universe where me and Prime were somewhat befriended. Seeing I was too puzzled to even know what I myself wanted, he picked up the first pieces, which now really looked ridiculously tiny in his hands, and pulled me to my feet while he himself remained in his position to somewhat compensate our height difference. Standing at my full height, our optics were about level now- I was once again reminded of how tall he really was.

"Here, let me..." He murmured and started attaching the armor to my torso. Pieces clicked into place, seams closed up smoothly, peripheral sensory ports I hadn't even known about opened in multiple places on my protoform to connect with the armor and fuse my own, inborn sense of touch with the artificial one built into the armor. I watched in disbelief while he, well, dressed me. Sometimes his hands lingered on my body for too long, exploring the smoothness of the new armor or testing its fit, which was, I had to admit, perfect. The weight of the additional metal was unusual, but there was something comforting about it, a mobile shelter that granted at least some safety. After a while, my shoulders, chest, upper stomach and hips were covered, then my lower legs and feet as well as my arms. I remained absolutely still during the whole procedure, as if frozen solid. I was standing in the Prime's personal quarters, letting him touch me from head to toe- and my son had taken control over me completely.

This was wrong on so many levels I could not even begin to tell. A helmet descended onto my head, a crown of shame to mark me as the mere toy of Primes. What else was left of me now?

"Yes", Optimus spoke softly, still cupping my new helmet, and therefore my head, in his hands, "Ironhide did a marvelous job. It is perfect." He released me after looking at my face for too long, and I looked down at myself. The armor I was now wearing was sleek, not a heavy duty design forged for battle, but a lightweight... it accentuated my more feminine shapes rather openly too- anyone could have told it had been made by a mech, seriously. I looked up at the mech in front of me when he stood up and _smiled_. "Come." He guided me into the bedroom and I actually _followed_ him- why did I follow him there? And that was not even it. I even let myself be pulled onto the bed next to him and I lay down by his side when he made some room for me. It was the weirdest thing I had ever done in my life.

"You know, you can actually be quite sweet when you're carrying, especially this time..." he said, putting an arm around my waist. It wasn't supposed to be like this. None of this was right or appropriate- I _hated_ this mech. However, my sparkling was as happy as it could be now, judging by the way it practically kept flooding me with its love and this odd feeling of security.

"I should be... avoiding you right now." I spoke after a while of too comfortable silence, my voice barely above a whisper. "I should be fighting you at every turn and I should hate you and fear you more than death itself. And yet I don't." He didn't respond, merely pressing a small kiss on the top of my helmet before falling asleep.

XXXXXXXXXX

Beneath the rec room table I was sitting at, my legs were twitchy. I kept my expression as neutral as possible but on the inside I was boiling with rage- for a change, my son let me. _My_ son. Pah. How could this pit spawn possibly be my son? I was angry at everything and everyone in the whole fucking universe; I was angry at this brat for manipulating me, his own mother, so stubbornly, at myself for not being able to do anything about it, at his father because I was always angry at him and he deserved no less, motherfucking bastard he was, and at anyone else because... well, in general.

I swept the room with my optics once again, but nothing of interest was happening. Bots refueling and talking. Meh. The Autobots seemed to be sort of on edge though, I thought I'd heard something about a battle or mission or whatever. What I knew for sure was that Prime wasn't here, or otherwise I would have been staying with him again, whenever he wasn't in a meeting or anything that was. Maybe they really were fighting a battle right now. If a few of them were killed, well, it would serve them right.

At least his absence convinced my son to leave me be and let my spark have its way for a change. Had he tried to make me miss him now I thought I could have exploded on the spot. Grrr. The sharp clicking sounds my fingers produced as they tapped on the table top grew annoying to my own audios after a few minutes, I looked down at myself for the thousandth time today.

The color of my armor was just so gay. It was fucking _pink_. And the mechs who had seen me in it so far had all liked it too well. Except for Ratchet. He hadn't said it out loud, but I knew he thought the color was horrible as well- and that coming from him, being neon yellowish- green!

I enjoyed the time I had for myself like this, I enjoyed simply being able to be angry.

That night, I knew when Optimus Prime had returned from the battlefield before the news had even reached me; it was my son of course who felt his arrival and immediately started calling out for him. I didn't see him before the next evening though, I didn't ask why, but I did notice his slight limp when he took me to his quarters then. And again, my sparkling made me behave in a way I would normally have refrained from. I couldn't go on like this, it had to stop.

I woke up in the middle of the night. Everything was quiet. I was enfolded in my mortal enemy's arms, who was recharging soundly. When had I gotten so used to his touch? My mortal enemy, I thought with a grim smirk. Very mortal indeed. Before we had gone to bed I had noticed something odd which I hadn't thought much of at that point because my sparkling wouldn't let me have any negative feelings when I was in the Prime's company and ultimately, it was hard to think in an hostile way if there were no correspondent feelings provoking such thought. But at the moment, I had a clear head. And I had a very good idea of the possible fatality of the mistake Optimus Prime had made: he hadn't closed his weapons locker properly. And he was recharging. And most importantly, I was here and aware of these facts.

Very careful not to wake him, I extracted myself from his embrace and got up. The locker's heavy door swung open soundlessly when I pulled and the sight of a rather stunning display of pristine murder tools greeted me. Rifles, ammunition, swords, a monstrous axe... but all that was useless to me. Too big, too heavy, generally too difficult to handle. I wouldn't give up that easily though and the set of shelves on the right side of the locker looked rather promising. Mostly, they held grenades, more ammunition, cleaning utensils as well as a few tools, but at the topmost shelf I finally found something: a dagger. At least it would have been a dagger to Optimus, to me, it was almost a sword. The handle was too thick for my small hand and I felt uncomfortable holding it, but it would definitely do.

I almost yelped when I heard the sleeping mech shift behind me, but he hadn't woken up. Now was the time. I looked at my optics' reflexion in the smooth blade I was holding. I couldn't kill my sparkling. But nothing would stop me from killing the other Prime in the room. I had to be very quick, had to do this before the real and deep hatred for this mech pulled me into a rage, stirred my son and made him interfere again. I tried to control the rising turmoil in my spark and stay calm. I would kill him in cold blood. And by the time he even noticed something was going on it would be too late for him.

There was no sound as I walked back to the berth and found a position which would allow me to ram the dagger up below his thick chestplates, right into his spark chamber. I lined the blade's tip up with the seam at the center of his lower chest, the one spot where it had to penetrate in order to kill him instantly. The world stood still. These were his last moments. It was a shame he would die so peacefully, quickly and without much pain. Simply killing him would not satisfy my thirst for revenge, but he would be gone. I would be free of him. And there would be no one left my son could force me to be all lovey- dovey with. It was the first step to true freedom.

I didn't know why I didn't just stab him right then, pushed the dagger into his chest with all my might and ended his miserable existence. Instead I looked up. And saw him looking back at me. One would have expected someone to look shocked or furious or scared in this kind of situation, but no, not him. He just looked absolutely calm, as if this was nothing out of the ordinary at all. His venting was steady, he didn't move- just kept looking at me. The blade was still pointed at his spark.

"You are not going to kill me, Alpha." he said eventually, quietly, with no trace of anger in his voice. I tightened my grip on the weapon, determined not to let myself me deterred. He was doing this on purpose just to confuse me I was sure, long enough for my son to take over again.

"Name one good reason why I shouldn't." What reasons were there to let him live? He was the father of my children? Hah. As if I gave a fuck. The reasons to perform the killing stroke however were many and they were grave.

"You may hate me and you may wish to harm me, but you are not a murderer. You probably don't want to hear this, but I _know_ you. It is not in your nature." My optic twitched.

"It_ is_ not in my nature. But considering how much you have done to drive me to this point, I have all the more reason to kill you."

"I dare you." I stared at him, starting to shiver. I dare you? This mech was absolutely insane, he had to be. All I had to do was put my weight into it and push. And what about him? He was making fun of me even in the face of death. I hesitated. I... I _would_ kill him, I would do it just to prove him wrong. He didn't know me. He never cared to get to know me. My sparkling was becoming aware of the precarious situation- he couldn't have understood what exactly was happening, but the emotions were speaking for themselves. I didn't have much time.

Still I didn't move. Why didn't I move? I was finally there, at a point where Optimus Prime's life hung in the balance and the decision whether he would survive this night or not was mine alone to make and all I could do was stare. Was this not what I had craved for years now? His destruction? I would never have another chance at this and if I didn't kill him now, it would go on forever. My suffering would continue, my children would forever be helpless and at his mercy. Coexistence was not an option. And still I didn't move. My hands were shaking so badly now the dagger's tip was dancing across his armor, scratching it. I couldn't, mustn't fail now, I thought. But still I couldn't move! Why!? Why couldn't I just end this!? I broke into sobs. How hard could it be to kill someone! _Him _of all bots! I couldn't move. Not even when he lifted his hands to grasp mine and take the dagger from me.

In that moment, all was lost. I was disarmed, rendered innocuous. Any my mind was collapsing on itself. I started wailing when Prime put the weapon away and pulled me against him. I punched one of the windows on his chest so hard it actually received a crack, to which he responded by holding me only tighter. I had never be so ashamed of myself.

XXXXXXXXXX

The ceiling in the med bay looked as dull and boring as ever, the lights were dimmed. My third son had seen the light of day (figuratively of course, because in fact it was just the artificial light coming from the ceiling lamps) a few hours ago, but I had no desire to see him. The whole spark- control- thing was still at the front of my mind and I was still quite mad. Obviously, my sparkling didn't understand why I was making so much of a fuss about it, he only meant well after all. The guy who had built the atomic bomb had also meant well.

No idea what Optimus Prime expected of me when he strolled into the room a few hours later, but he was grinning like an idiot. I scowled and turned my head away. He motioned for my guard to leave us, then leaned against the wall opposite from my bed casually.

"So." He started. '_So'_ usually meant that he wanted nothing in particular, aside from getting on my nerves of course.

"What are you still doing here?" I asked, annoyed.

"I thought I should pay a visit to the _'queen mother'_ and see how she is doing."

"I'm fine now that this parasite of a monarch- to- be has finally left my body, thanks for asking dipshit." Logically, he didn't take kindly to the insult and it made me smirk internally to see his good mood go down the drain.

"That is my son you are talking about, you ungrateful little wretch. How come every time I am being polite you can think of nothing but attacking me?" Insufferable as always. And to think I had lived side by side with that bastard for months! The thought alone made me sick- sick and very, very angry.

"Because no matter how you try to disguise it, you'll always be an asshole, that's why!" He growled lowly, pushing himself away from the wall to walk towards me threateningly. I sat up quickly.

"Careful, femme."

"Oh yeah? Or what? You're gonna rape me? Lock me up? Torture me? I don't see how that would be any different from a regular day with you." I ground out between my clenched teeth. He was still closing in on me. The rage was getting more intense by the second, the pace of my sparkbeat was quickening until it was pumping so hard it could have burnt the insides of my sparkchamber in its fully extended phases. One step closer.

"There are much worse things I would like to do to you right now, believe me." Out of experience, I could tell he would have expected me to jump off the berth now and try to bolt; that or continue insulting him. However, I did neither. I jumped up _on_ the berth and punched him in the nose, he rebounded, I jumped at him to claw at his optics. It all went so fast he didn't have much time to react before I managed to dig a sharp fingertip into his right optic cruelly and scratched downward, rupturing his lower eyelid before hitting the battlemask which had snapped shut just in time before I could turn the rest of his face into a bleeding mess.

He threw me off, I slid along the floor and hit the wall hard. It hurt, but I ignored it. Without the armor, it would have been much worse. I got back up and charged. It was stupid, reckless, completely devoid of common sense, but it was the fury and hate acting and I _wanted_ to attack him so badly.

I had caught him off guard earlier, but for it to happen again was too much to hope for- he was a warrior after all, I was not. I didn't stand a chance. Within mere seconds, he had me pinned to the floor, my arms twisted behind my back brutally.

"WHO THE FRAG DO YOU THINK YOU ARE!?" He yelled, pushing my face into the floor. I couldn't move, speaking was next to impossible in this position but there was one very important thing I had to say.

"Fuck... you..." I squeezed out. Then I was lifted up so quickly everything started spinning and the next thing I knew was that I had received a very hard slap in the face that sent me flying. I crashed into a berth and fell to the floor.

"WHAT'S GOING ON IN HERE?!" Ratchet. I couldn't see him from my position, but his holler could probably be heard in the whole base.

"You keep out of this, medic!" Prime barked back at him.

"Have you totally lost your mind?! Alpha-" he stopped. I could see Prime staring at him, with a look in his optics that could have killed. Ratchet let out a whine that turned into a scream quickly, I heard him crashing to the floor while intense fear and agony from his side practically scorched the sparkbond we shared. I wriggled past the berth despite the pain I was in now, just to see him curled up on the floor, his head clutched in his hands as he continued screaming. Stiffly, as if it was an immensely arduous task, Prime walked towards him and past me.

"You. Will. Not. Interfere." Ratchet's scream rose in pitch. I didn't understand what was happening, he wasn't even being touched and yet he seemed to be in extreme pain. I didn't need to understand to be horrified though. And I didn't need to understand to tumble back into demoniacal aggression.

"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" I screamed, pulled myself up on my feet and hurled a drip standing beside the berth at the Prime's back. It merely bounced off him, but at least it distracted him for a moment and made him cease his attack on my father. But that meant his focus was back on me. This time, I did try to run from him but he was too quick and caught me. Lifted up by the throat, I was slammed into the wall.

"YOU LITTLE BITCH!", he screamed furiously, tightening his grip on my neck so I started seeing stars. "Do you really want to do this the hard way!? DO YOU!? Alright then, fine! You're obviously well enough to fight, you don't need recovery- and I know just the place for you to go!"

He switched his hold to the back of my neck and half carried, half dragged me out of the room. I panicked. What was going on? What was he doing? I struggled, screamed and fought as hard as I could for minutes, but that didn't stop him. In the end, it wasn't a cell, torture chamber or anything of the like he threw me into, but the rec room, which was currently full of Autobots.

"Here, you can have her! I'm done with this little piece of slag!", he exclaimed and left, slamming the door behind himself. There was silence for a few seconds, the mechs too stunned to react to me having been thrown into their midst. The lamb in the cage of starved wolves. Then someone started laughing and the noise of mechs talking, yelling and moving became almost deafening. Hands grabbed hold of me, I screamed.

**This wasn't half as troublesome to write as I thought... well. Up next: the Decepticons (yay, finally)! Please review.**


	22. The Other Side

**Transformers belongs to Hasbro/ Takara.**

**The Dark Horizon**

**Chapter 22: The Other Side**

I should have known this day would be out of the ordinary when I woke with this unsettling feeling in my fuel tank. I was currently being escorted back to my cell by my guards- yes, there were two of them now, as my frequent attacks on pretty much every Autobot within my reach had apparently prompted Prime to top up their number a bit. At the moment however, I didn't feel like fighting, I was tired. Ahead of us, Sideswipe rounded a corner and walked past me, winking at me as he went. I glared at him- he hadn't exactly been uninvolved in the 'fun games' the Autobot troops had played with me for weeks during their spare time in the rec room and for me, their 'games' hadn't been fun at all.

Luckily, the Autobots' second in command, Prowl, had interfered at some point, not out of sympathy or ethical reasons, but because I couldn't get carrying. "While these activities may very well serve a recreational purpose for the troops", he'd said, "they are highly counterproductive in terms of reproduction, which is what you are here for." His way of saying that it was impossible for me to get pregnant as long as I was practically fucked to death by dozens of mechs every single day- that quite a few of their practices had nothing to do with reproduction at all went without saying.

Thus, Prowl had requested to have me for himself for a while and Prime had allowed it. Being with Prowl hadn't exactly been great since he was hardly good company, but at least that workaholic didn't molest me more than he had to in order to get a sparkling out of me. I had the slight feeling he wasn't that much into femmes anyway, or into anything but his work for that matter. We didn't talk much. Well, in any case the result was that I was now carrying Prowl's son, which meant I didn't see my new sparkling's father at all- after all, he had succeeded and what would he be doing with me anyway if I already was knocked up?

So as I said, after the daily checkup I was on my way back to my cell, that was when the alarm started sounding. The lights overhead were flashing, a siren was blaring, my guards took the safety off their guns. I tried to let the initial shock work to my advantage and jerked the chains they held me by, but sadly, they didn't let go.

"You're staying here." One of them said urgently. The air was buzzing with commlink connections, a gun was fired in a corridor not far away. "To the high security tract. Quick." The other guard ordered and they pulled me in a different direction. Was the base being attacked? What was going on? Everything happened so quickly then.

There was a loud and very weird plopping sound behind us, one of the guards turned around and fired. While the other pulled me aside and shielded me with his body. The thunderous noise of gunfire and bots running towards us echoed in the hallway, the sound from earlier could be heard again. And again, but much louder and right beside me and before I even knew what was happening my remaining guard was down and another mech grabbed me by the arm. I was only able to catch a short glimpse of him, but I didn't miss the wings and the red optics.

"Gotcha!" he exclaimed joyfully. The plopping sounded again and everything around us disappeared. White blinding light, distortion of space, the universe turned upside down and inside out, everything just seemed to explode around the Decepticon and myself just to be put back together in the blink of an eye. I was so shocked I didn't move, letting myself be clutched to the flier's chassis.

Then, darkness. My head spun, my captor released me but I didn't move as I was totally disoriented. There were hushed voices, speaking Cybertronian, the words starting to make sense only slowly. I could see nothing around me but blackness- no, wait, there were red lights. Optics, I realized after a a short moment, red optics glowing in the dark.

"Hahahaaa, who's the mech?" My kidnapper sung. "And you, my friend, owe me a stack of high grade!"

"Whoa whoa, we agreed on three cubes, not a whole stack." Someone to my left complained.

"Three cubes make a stack, dude!" The first mech snickered.

"You actually got her." Some other mech said. As I was becoming coherent once again and started looking around more intently, two bots grabbed me by the arms. I struggled immediately- I didn't know these guys but anyone trying to immobilize me must have been an enemy.

"Take her to Lord Megatron." Someone else said. The two bots holding me started pulling me forward by the arms so I dug my heels into the ground out of instinct alone, but it was useless.

"Let go! Let go of me, you brutes!" I yelled agitatedly. The bot to my right chuckled.

"Easy babe, we just don't want you to fall over. You must be quite dizzy." I kicked him in the shin (at least I thought it was his shin, but I still couldn't see), which only served to turn his chuckle into an outright cackle. "Feisty, huh?"

It took a little while before my optics adjusted to the dark- the black hallways I was being led through were illuminated ever so slightly, the light was purple, just bright enough to see- if one was used to it. I didn't see much though, only the rest of a hallway before a large black door opened in front of us and we stepped into a big, wedge shaped room. The comparatively bright lighting made me squint, still I could see there were several bots in here. The walls were lined with large monitors, there was a huge window at the front and several consoles manned by Decepticons. It looked like some kind of command center. Through the window ahead I could see endless blackness and stars- I was in outer space it seemed, on a spaceship or -station... and getting here had taken mere seconds. How was that possible?

"Lord Megatron!" The mech to my left called. Then I saw him and I gasped. I'd thought Optimus Prime looked scary, but he was just... my god. I now understood why the Autobots only ever dared to utter his name with fear lacing their voice. He was tall, taller than Prime even, massive limbs speaking of great strength, his spiky armor gray as death itself, his blazing optics on the dark, scarred face red as the fires of hell. And he had turned around to look at me. I felt very small all of a sudden, helpless and insignificant... however, when I realized I was staring at him in shock and that my shoulders had sagged, I quickly stood up straight and steeled my countenance. It didn't seem like a good idea to look intimidated now. My initial confusion had passed, now it was time to face anything that lay ahead of me with at least some dignity. To be honest, the first words I heard him speak surprised me though.

"Let go of her, will you? Show some manners around a lady." He spoke with a deep, raspy voice that reminded me of a growling predator. Seriously, everything about the appearance of this mech screamed war- everything but his behavior. I was released and stepped away from the two bots by my sides quickly. "You must excuse them; we are not exactly used to having femmes around anymore." Was he mocking me? He didn't sound like he was. What was I supposed to say? Was it even good I was here or had I just gotten out of the frying pan and into the fire?

"I... uh..." The words of a genius.

"You know who I am, don't you?" he asked calmly. Of course I knew- I'd read the history files so I knew quite a bit about him. Most importantly I knew about his reputation, which was the one of a genocidal maniac, an extraordinary killing machine.

"I... I do." I said with a quiet, but steady voice. At least it was as steady as I could make it right now.

"I suppose you also know that you are far away from the Autobot base then. This could be either good or bad for you, depending on the nature of your relationship to the Autobots." His voice held a slightly threatening edge now, but I didn't wince, a fact of which I was feeling rather proud. Holding my head up high, I frowned at the warlord in front of me.

"I arrived enchained." I simply said. That I wasn't on friendly terms with the Autobots was obvious, I thought. A few seconds passed during which he scrutinized me closely, but then his lips split into a grin, showing his sharp teeth.

"We should talk then. Come, these shackles of yours look uncomfortable." I was still wearing them, but no one was holding the chain now; it was merely lying on the floor to my feet. It rattled when I picked it up slowly.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Please, take a seat." Megatron said, sitting down on the opposite side of what must have been his desk. The room was just as dark as the rest of the ship. I didn't move from my spot by the door at first, watching him cautiously.

"Why are you being so polite?" My wary question was met by a short laugh.

"Why wouldn't I? Doesn't courtesy make negotiations so much easier?" I stared at him for a while, waiting for a sign that would show he was indeed making fun of me, but it never came. I looked to my left, where a tall, night blue mech with a red visor was looming in the shadows, watching. Soundwave- another Decepticon, another infamous war criminal. "Never mind Soundwave, he is merely bearing witness for the records." I sat down, still wary of my surroundings.

"What do you want from me?" I was in no mood to beat around the bush. I didn't expect the Decepticons to be any better than the Autobots, but I had been through hell in the past months, no, years, and it couldn't possibly get any worse, right? Still I felt like this moment was to become a very crucial one.

"Let me ask _you_ a question first: what do you know about the Decepticons?" I didn't reply right away- it sounded like a trap. And as I was in potentially dangerous company, I thought it to be better not to walk right into it, so I opted for diplomacy for now.

"I... fear I cannot answer with certainty. The sources of information I've had access to were rather one- sided on that subject and judging by how the Autobots are usually described, I suppose the records are quite... inaccurate." He obviously liked my answer, but his attentive optics still unsettled me somehow. I wondered what he was thinking; unlike Optimus Prime, he was difficult for me to read.

"One shouldn't pay too much heed to propaganda. You are a smart youngling. I suppose the files you studied didn't say what the Decepticons are fighting for, now did they?"

"They say you strive to destroy the Autobots and dominate the universe, that you fight for power. Peace through tyranny and all that." In short, the Decepticons were always described as the ultimate evil- many of the records even said their goal was to destroy the universe, but that had always sounded plain stupid to me because, in all honesty, why would anyone want that?

"And that, my young friend, is very far from the truth. What we are fighting for is the right of self- determination. Freedom, if you will, mostly freedom from hierarchical structures which do not allow individuals to strive and which even go further and persecute those who are different, structures in which social status is dictated by ancestry, not achievement. And ultimately, that means we fight to eliminate the line of Primes." During the short silence that followed, I merely kept watching the mech in front of me thoughtfully. Freedom? He was very obviously trying to make me see the Decepticons as the good guys, but could I believe him? One shouldn't pay too much heed to propaganda he'd said, but propaganda was spread not only by the Autobots- I had to be very careful here.

"But going back to your question." He continued, leaning back in his chair. "The question is not what _I_ want, but what _you_ want. What _any_ bot wants." He seemed to be amused by my confused look, I frowned. What?

"You see, I used to serve as a general in the army of Sentinel Prime before the war and during that time, I learned an important lesson. There are two kinds of bots. There are those who can be oppressed and who, broken by force, will become barely more than a mindless tool to their superiors. Such bots will always be the weak link in the team and they will almost never perform above average levels; in short, they are worthless. And there are those who can _not_ be broken and if one tries to suppress their will, one will have an eternal war on one's hands. But as soon as you find out what it is they want, you can let that work for you and they will be the most reliable and persistent soldiers- comrades- you could ever wish for.

And what every bot wants is a purpose in life, to feel like they are needed, to know they are a valuable member of their society. This is something the Autobots, first and foremost the Primes, never cared to learn about." He said, then leaned back in his chair, mustering me thoughtfully all the while. "We Decepticons are a union of strong individuals, bots who have been condemned for who they are. We are the deviants if you will, the outcasts of an outdated society. And now we demand justice."

"Why are you telling me this? What do your soldiers have to do with _me_?" Certainly it wasn't because he simply liked to talk, even if that thought amused me in a way.

"It is a fact not only about my soldiers, but about Cybertronians in general. You are cybertronian just as I am, as we all are. Our abilities may be different ones, but for every single bot there is something they can contribute." I huffed. I knew exactly what he was talking about. Why would it be any different.

"I know where this is headed. What you want from me is just the same thing the Autobots want, isn't it." He shook his head and leaned forward again, bracing his heavily armored arms on the desk in front of him.

"Not exactly. Contributing to a cause is not the same thing as having something taken from you by force and from our intelligence I can conclude that the latter must have been the case when it comes to your... special abilities."

"And by 'special abilities' you mean me being a femme." I crossed my arms and legs in an explicitly defensive posture. "Do you actually believe I would agree to you and your mechs raping me as well?"

"I am _not_ talking about rape here." Megatron said firmly, authority ringing in his voice. He seemed to be a tad offended. "Alpha," he addressed by my name for the first time, "you have no idea of the power you hold. Why do you think Prime has subdued you so? I assume you started fighting him ever since you first realized things were becoming uncomfortable for you?"

I thought about that for a moment. Actually, he was right. I had listened to Prime at first, back when everything had looked like one big adventure, but then, when it all started to get ugly, I'd bared my teeth. "...yes. Yes I have."

"I thought so. You see, Prime is not a fool, he _knows_ when someone will not bend to his will and he will do everything in his power to keep his opponent as harmless as possible. He fears you, and with good reason." I blinked.

"Fear? Probably not. He's the _Prime_. And I'm just-"

"Someone who is constantly undermining his authority. In front of his troops at that and additionally, you are someone he can not simply get rid of because of your mentioned abilities. Now.", he pushed himself away from his desk and got up. "As a prisoner, you are useful. But as an ally, you are invaluable." I shook my head slowly.

"Where's the difference for me? Neither option would allow me to leave should I wish to do so, and one way or another I'll be screwed. Literally. I don't see what's in it for me." Megatron strolled over to the window at the side of the room to watch the stars go by slowly. His feet made heavy sounds on the dark metal floor, but still he moved with surprising grace for his size.

"There is plenty for you to gain. You would enjoy our full protection, receive standard pay and the status of a full- fledged member of the Decepticons. And of course you may choose an apprenticeship of your liking, or several. Just imagine", he spoke almost ardently, gesticulating with his clawed hand, "the things we could achieve if we joined forces! A whole new generation of Cybertronians, born in freedom." He paused. "You alone hold the power to save our people, Alpha. Give your children a reason to be proud of their mother."

"You're saying all this as if I had a choice. But somehow I can't shake the feeling that should I decline your offer, you'll take what you want anyway."

"And risk the credibility of my whole faction, betray what we have been fighting for in the past millennia? Certainly not. Let me tell you though that it would be very unwise to decline. If you choose not to join the Decepticons, you will be on your own. The universe is a harsh place and you would be faced by more threats than just the Autobots. In the end, you would either be killed or recaptured by our enemy and both outcomes are rather undesirable, are they not?" His optics were burning into mine with an intensity that might have made my legs wobble had I not been seated. I tried to remain as collected as possible, even if it proved hard to do so. "So what do you say?"

I didn't answer right away. I had to admit that what he was saying made sense; I didn't believe him when he said he would simply let me go if that was what I wanted, but... there_ really_ was no place for me to go.

"How do I know I will not be treated as an object anyway?"

"You have my word. My Decepticons shall treat you with respect, I will see to it personally. I will not tolerate dishonorable behavior from anyone in our ranks." He sounded like he meant that. But could I trust him? Past experiences had taught me better... did I really have a choice?

"I... want to learn how to fight. I want to be allowed to carry arms like everyone else and to move about freely on the ship or wherever we are stationed. And I will not be a plaything for your troops to fool around with." I was bargaining over myself- how absurd. But everyone had their price I supposed, and for now, I had mine.

"Agreed." Megatron walked up to me, I got up- he towered above me anyway, there was no reason to make myself even smaller by remaining seated. He extended his hand. "Do we have a deal?"

I hesitated, but eventually, I grasped his hand and shook it. His handshake seemed a bit unpracticed, but it was an earth custom and I was sure he was merely doing this because he was aware of my origins. His sharp teeth gleamed in the dim lighting as he smiled. "Welcome to the Decepticon ranks, my friend."

He then called someone to have me settled in, but just before I left he brought another topic up. "There is one more thing I need to ask. Am I right to assume you have given birth to at least two sparklings during your stay at the Autobot base?"

"Three. The fourth is on its way. Why?"

"Alpha, I must know... have you birthed a Prime?" I froze. The Decepticons aspired to annihilate even the last of the Primes. I was to become a Decepticon now. And one of my sons was a Prime. This was something I hadn't considered. Fuck. _Fuck_. I might have been angry with my son, but I would never wish for him to _die_. The silence was beginning to become uncomfortably long and I was sure Megatron was growing suspicious- I had to come up with an answer, and quickly.

"Thank Primus I haven't." I said in the end. "Prime tried, believe me. But after three attempts he kinda grew sick of me I guess." I somehow doubted he bought it, but if he saw through my lie, he didn't say so.

"Good. Because if you had, we would have to terminate the sparkling as soon as possible before it could do any harm." It was a threat in disguise lingering in the air and in that moment I just _knew_ he was aware of the fact that I was trying to protect my offspring. I was very glad of the quiet knock on the sliding door to the office a few seconds later.

The door opened and a relatively short mech, little taller than Bumblebee but undoubtedly older than the yellow scout, stepped in. His armor was mostly jet black with a few white and dark purple accents, his build was wiry, but what disturbed me a little about his appearance were his optics. He had four of them- one pair in the usual location and another, slightly smaller pair a little further up, all of them deep crimson. There was something unsettling about him, not in a scary way, but still... I couldn't place the feeling he provoked within my spark then, but in a way, I felt curious about him. He didn't speak, instead he just nodded at Megatron, Soundwave and myself.

"Barricade will escort you to your room and watch over you for the time being. I will see you after you have refueled and taken some rest, then we can start sorting things out." I nodded and followed the black mech into the hallways.

**I'm sorry to tell you the next chapter will probably take a bit longer since I've got a really busy time ahead of me- I'll have to drive through the whole country next month, then I'm going to Paris and then I'll be off to university... it's crazy to think I will then have visited nine countries within the past two years, using exactly 14 planes to get around (alright, if the one I jumped out of counts that is). Well, what can I say- I'm trying to make my life as epic as possible, right? That and I'm currently raising a real tyrant of a chick which I have named Megatron (very fitting, really).**

**Please review anyway ;)**


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